


Dolorem Animi Extinguo

by cadutadalcielo



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Endgame Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Emma Swan, F/F, Fluff, Mystery, Temporary Amnesia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-03-16 07:00:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 81,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13631097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadutadalcielo/pseuds/cadutadalcielo
Summary: After Robin's death, Regina enacts a curse on herself that erases all of her memories, granting her a new life in New York City. When Fate intervenes, bringing her back to Storybrooke, Emma has to deal with an amnesiac Regina, a mysterious jewelry box and unexpected developments. - Set after S05E21. Robin has been killed by Hades, Hook never came back from the Underworld. SQ.





	1. Regina - Cursed

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everybody and welcome to my first story. I started writing this fic over a year ago, so you may notice how my writing evolved as time went by.  
> I've been posting chapters twice a week on Fanfiction.net for almost a month, now, so if you want to binge-read the first nine chapters instead of only the first one, you can find them there.  
> This is the first story I have ever actually committed to, so please, feel free to leave reviews - constructive criticism is more than welcome: there's always room for improvement! It hasn't been beta'd, so I'm responsible for all mistakes. The point of view will vary from Regina's to Emma's according to the chapter, and the updates will be on Tuesdays and Saturdays.  
> I don't own any of the characters, unfortunately.  
> Enjoy!

I was laying in bed, my eyes wide open and my mind wide awake – not unlike any other night. I couldn't recall the last time I had been able to fall asleep; I imagined I just wasn't cut out for big cities. When people commonly called New York 'the-city-that-never-sleeps', they couldn't be more literal: cars, people, music – an earsplitting noise that seemed to grow even louder as you tried to rest.

It drove me insane. It filled my head and it never stopped. It led me to throwing objects at walls out of anger and desperation; I would scream as loud as I could, with my face buried deep into a pillow, as an attempt to overpower the noise but ending up making it even worse.

It was easier during the daytime. I had work and errands to distract me, when the sun was up. I felt normal.

However, I still couldn't fathom why the noise was affecting me so much lately, even though I had been living in New York for as long as I could remember. It almost felt as if New York itself was trying to tell me something, as if it didn't want me to be there. And, to be quite honest, I was beginning to feel like I didn't belong there as well.

I idly glanced at the alarm clock on my bedside table, entirely out of habit: its red digits had always been stuck on 8:15, and for some reason I had never bothered replacing the clearly-dead batteries. I checked the time on my phone: it was almost half past seven. Time to get up.

And so another plain, uneventful day started, doing the same exact things as always, over and over again.

I wanted to leave. That's what my brain was telling me: I didn't belong in New York anymore, so what better way to change a monotonous routine than to begin another life and completely start over?

But, somehow, I knew I wasn't supposed to leave.

 _Contradictory, much?_ , I thought to myself as I got dressed. It seemed as if two opposite parts of me were constantly fighting: my mind was desperately trying to drag me out of that place, and the deepest, most uncontrollable part of me, for whatever reason, was telling me to stay exactly where I was.

With these thoughts running through my mind, I got ready for the day, grabbing a red apple and eating it on my way to work.

"Good morning, Regina. Did you sleep well?" My secretary, Anne, welcomed me with her usual question, inevitably followed by my blunt, "No," as an answer. I grabbed the documents and the macchiato she was handing me and, without another word, I entered my office, closing the door and hoping no one would interrupt me until I was finished with that paperwork.

As an interior designer, I was constantly leafing through apartment pictures and blueprints. I was rather successful, therefore many people requested my consultancy, and since I was – you know – only human and couldn't accept all of their offers, I had to select the ones I found most interesting and then establish a date with the clients to actually visit the space and hear their suggestions and desires. Unfortunately, I didn't have any appointment that afternoon; how was I going to keep my mind off of my insanity?

I sat at my desk and started skimming the diagrams Anne had just given me, taking a sip of my drink every now and again.

One of the files immediately caught my attention: it was a pretty normal apartment, much like those industrial lofts college students would usually rent, but somehow I felt like I had already seen it before. Even the name of the client, written in the bottom-right corner of the page – a certain Mary Margaret Blanchard – seemed familiar. I had probably already selected it a few days earlier, and Anne had mistakenly put it between the new maps. Why I hadn't fired her yet, I still didn't know…

I let out an angry sigh and quickly grabbed my office phone. Anne didn't answer my call, which frustrated me even more, so I left my seat and peeked out of my office door, looking for her – only to realize she was nowhere to be seen.

"Has someone seen Anne?" I shouted at the people wandering around the hallway. Some of them let out a small, shaky, "No," whilst a few just shook their head without even daring to look at me in the eyes. Was I actually that intimidating? Good.

My impatience was growing bigger every second. Where the hell was she?! I looked for her in the restroom, the kitchen and the printing room, eventually ending up scanning the entire building, but to no avail.

Resigned to the fact that I wasn't going to find her any time soon, I went back to my office, determined to fire her as soon as she would be back – but the moment I opened the door, I froze.

I looked around, searching for someone who could have broken into my office while I was gone, but whoever it was, they had fled.

My desk was always meticulously tidy; the only things onto it were a computer, my office phone and, occasionally, the paperwork I needed to flick through. Therefore, someone must have been there during the ten minutes I was gone, because that damn crystal swan that was now right on top of my keyboard surely didn't get there by itself.

As I carefully took a seat at my desk, my heart was racing and my mind was working fast, trying to find a reason why anyone would ever want to leave such a peculiar object in my office. I had many hypothesis, one less probable than the other. Trying not to think too much of it, I finished studying the maps and decided to call that Mary Margaret person to fix an appointment.

"Hello?" a sweet voice answered. I didn't like her already.

"Hello, is this Miss Blanchard? My name is…"

" _Regina?_ " she interrupted me.

I tensed up. How did she know who I was? I heard muffled voices and chairs being moved in the background, coming from the other side of the phone.

"I- sorry, my… my dog, Regina, was… misbehaving…" she stuttered. So it wasn't me, she was talking about… Of course. I guess the recent break-in was making me paranoid. I immediately relaxed. "You were saying?"

"Yes, this is Regina Mills from  _Magic & More Designs_. I was told you requested my collaboration as an interior designer for your apartment, is that correct?"

"What…? I didn't… I mean… Yes, sure, I did do that. When- when would you like to come visit the place?" she asked. I thought something was unusually sketchy, but once again, I blamed it on my nerves.

"Tomorrow would be perfect," I said, checking my schedule in the meantime, "but I can make it this afternoon as well – would that be a problem?"

"A problem? Oh, no, today's perfect! I- I live in a very small town in Maine, though, it's not even marked on street maps, so I'll send my daughter to come and pick you up – if that's okay, of course," she exclaimed, and she was talking so fast that I could barely make out her words. I found it quite curious that she was old enough to have a grown-up daughter: I had imagined Miss Blanchard to be rather young, judging by her voice.

"I'm sure I can find your town by myself, Miss Blanchard – I don't want to trouble you. Now, what is it called?" I inquired, before hearing a door shut from the other side of the phone.

"I'm sorry, my daughter is already on her way. She should be there around four PM, so I guess I will see you tonight. You'll recognize her by the yellow bug she drives."

"Wait-" I started, but she had already hung up on me.  _Well, that was polite_ , I thought, sarcastically.  _Who drives a yellow bug, anyway?_

I went on with my work as I waited for that girl to give me a lift to Miss Blanchard's. I also tried to contact Anne a few more times, without any success; not having enough time to go and grab some lunch by myself, I decided an energy bar from the vending machine in the hallway would do.

To be frank, I should have been much more worried about getting in a car with a stranger, but I felt fairly confident; I could look after myself. Besides, I had to be in the car with that girl only for…  _wait a minute_ … a trip from New York to Maine could take up to seven hours. And if Miss Blanchard's daughter and I were to leave around four, it would mean that we'd get there at about…

" _Eleven?!_ " I accidentally shouted, not meaning to talk out loud.

"Everything okay, Regina?" My bald, wrinkly boss peeked into my office, having heard my exclamation.

"Yes, everything is fine, Mr. Dawson, I was just… dumbfounded by the amount of calories this chocolate bar has…"  _And the award for the worst excuse in the world goes to…_

I metaphorically crossed my fingers, hoping my boss wouldn't be knowledgeable about how calories worked.

"Oh, you sound just like my wife!" he exclaimed with a throaty chortle, and I mentally breathed a sigh of relief. Trying not to look disgusted at the thought of being Mr. Dawson's wife, I listened as he continued. "She's  _obsessed_  with staying fit! So, do you have any meetings with clients today?"

"Actually, just one," I replied. "The apartment my client wants me to decorate is in Maine, so I'm going to leave in a few hours and I suppose I will be back by tomorrow evening." I still was uneasy in regards of the late hour I would be arriving at the place, and the fact that I had practically been forced into the road trip that would cause such delay surely wasn't helping.

I actually didn't owe my boss any explanation: my job regularly required me to leave for a variable amount of time, for there was a large variety of people from all over the United States who requested my consultation. However, I assumed it would have been only appropriate to inform him.

"That is fine, Regina, you know I don't have any problem with that."

"Sir, I was wondering… Do you happen to know where Anne, my assistant, is?" I definitely chose the most unreliable girl in the world. Next time I'll make a wiser choice…

"Oh, I'm afraid I don't know that. If you're not back by the time she returns, I'll give you a call and let you know…"

"Don't bother" I ordered, roughly. "Just fire her. She disappeared without a word, and gods know where she's gone. I don't need any irresponsible employees in my staff."

Mr. Dawson cackled.

"This is what I like about you! You're bossy and heartless, in the most positive way possible! That's exactly why you'll take my place when I'll retire."

"And I'm honored you have such high an opinion of me, sir." I glanced at the wall clock on my right. "I'm leaving in an hour; if it's not a problem, I would like to go home and pack, now."

After leaving my office, I wondered how Miss Blanchard's daughter was going to find me. She had probably searched  _Magic & More Designs_'s address on the internet, so I decided to return there after I was done packing.

Once I had arrived home, I pulled out the smallest of my suitcases and prepared some of the most essential things I would need; I was done pretty early, however, and in order to kill time I decided to take a better look at the crystal swan that I had found in my office. I couldn't tell you why I didn't simply throw it in the garbage. I guess it had aroused my curiosity. As I observed it, I noticed it didn't have any engravings or distinguishing marks that would give me a clue as to who had left it on my desk or where it was from. However – and that was the most unsettling part – it did look and feel like actual crystal, and not just a low quality material. It was clear, but when the light hit it at a certain angle, you could see a green hue that made the piece of jewelry even more intriguing.

Perhaps one of my colleagues had feelings for me? Impossible – I hated all of them, and everyone was aware of that. I always made sure no one would feel anything but fear towards me. After a few moments of indecision, I decided to throw it in my handbag. It couldn't hurt to keep it, now, could it?

I arrived at the  _Magic & More Designs_ establishment at exactly four o' clock. I looked around in the parking lot, but I knew there wouldn't be any yellow bugs there – it was for staff only.

Exiting the lot, I turned the corner and there it was, right in front of me, in all its decadent glory. A blonde in a tasteless red leather jacket was leaning onto it, arms crossed and a small smile on her face that grew a bit wider as I got closer.

"You must be Miss Blanchard's daughter. My name's Regina Mills, nice to meet you."

She shook my hand firmly, and I could've sworn I felt something – much like a spark, yet not quite. It was familiar, mysterious, primordial… I was going crazy.

"I'm Emma," she replied. Her eyes were of a deep shade of green that reminded me of something, although I couldn't quite put my finger on what that exactly was. "Emma Swan."

 


	2. Regina - Bugged

_Swan?_ , I thought. _Talk about a coincidence…_

"Shall we?" Miss Swan asked, motioning to her car with a telling gesture. "I got this, you just go ahead." She grabbed my suitcase and placed it in the trunk, as I took my place in the passenger seat and tried not to cringe at the poor conditions of the vehicle.

I felt uneasy. I couldn't fathom why, but Miss Swan looked rather familiar, and my guts were telling me that, somehow, this trip was going to surprise me. I tried not to overthink it too much, as we set out onto the main road, and I shifted my attention on the sunset. The sky was a rainbow of blues, purples and reds, and the sun had already disappeared behind the dark profiles of New York's skyscrapers. I knew I was supposed to find it beautiful, but it actually scared me quite a bit; I was afraid. I always was, when the sun started to set: it meant that the night was approaching, and the monsters in my head were about to wake up.

I sighed with resignation, aware of the fact that I was never going to defeat what was inside my own mind. And yet, the tiniest, most insignificant spark of hope was fluttering somewhere around my stomach… Miss Blanchard had told me that her hometown was very small, too trifling to be even registered on a map; then, perhaps, it would be silent as well, devoid of traffic and loud, drunk teenagers… Perhaps I would be able to sleep…

"So, why don't you tell me something about yourself?" Miss Swan interrupted my trail of thoughts. I looked at her as she continued. "If we're going to stay in this car for like, seven hours, we might as well get to know each other."

"I don't particularly enjoy talking to people," I replied, and turned my head to resume cloud-gazing out the window, resting my chin onto my hand.

Miss Swan chuckled. That was most definitely not the reaction I had expected…

"What's so funny?" I spat out, trying to convey enough rudeness to erase the amusement off her face.

"Oh, sorry- you just reminded me of someone I knew." Albeit she was still smiling, her eyes turned slightly sadder as she pronounced that last word; she seemed lost in her thoughts, as if a cluster of memories had suddenly come rushing back, overwhelming her.

The more I looked at her, the bigger that sensation of familiarity grew. Maybe I had worked for her before?

I only realized I had been staring for a long time when she quickly shot me a baffled look, momentarily diverting her attention from the road. "You alright?"

At that point, I couldn't resist any longer. I had to know, and voicing my doubts was the only solution. "Have we… Have we met before?" I stammered.

The smirk on her face disappeared almost immediately, although I had no idea as to why.

"I don't think so, sorry," she answered, and I decided to drop the subject. I had the inexplicable sensation that she was lying, but I didn't think much about it, blaming it on lack of sleep and exhaustion, instead.

Determined not to ponder on the matter any longer, I once again turned my attention back to the sky.

We fell into a silence that was only interrupted by the sound of occasional cars and motorcycles passing by. We had already glided onto the I-95 S, and the sky had already turned pitch black, when she broke it.

"You look pensive," she murmured. I was secretly glad she had talked; I could feel the cloud of noise starting to overwhelm me, and I surely wasn't looking forward to losing my composure in front of a stranger.

I didn't want to start a conversation – call me a misanthrope, but I didn't exactly appreciate people – yet, I needed a distraction from my thoughts.

"Well, way to be both  _extremely_  perceptive and unnecessarily invasive," I said. I knew being rude wasn't the most appropriate approach to take, but I was too proud to show how weak I actually was – especially to a woman I had known for approximately three hours.

A frustrated snort hinted me that I had managed to annoy her.  _Good_.

"I'm most humbly sorry, Your Majesty," she mumbled sarcastically, a pout distorting her expression.  _Your Majesty… Why do I like that?_

"Oh, please, are you going to sulk for the rest of the day, now?" I blurted out. Normally I wasn't quite this straight-forward with my clients, but there was something about Miss Swan that just spurred me to be my worst self. "If you're expecting an apology from me, I'm afraid you'll be disappointed, dear."

"I don't expect you to be sorry, but you could at least try to be polite!"

"I don't do polite," I quietly retorted, feeling a frown make its way onto my face. "What made you choose yellow?" I added after a second, my voice accompanied by a grimace for good measure.

I was trying to offend her, but I was increasingly aware of the fact that we sounded precisely like five-year-olds bickering.

"What?"

"Your bug! Yellow? Bold choice."

She didn't reply for a while; for a moment I even almost felt guilty, thinking that I might have managed to offend her. Did I go too far?  _Well, so what? Who cares!_

"I like yellow," she murmured, and by her expression I could tell she was upset.

I decided to just change the subject – we were only half-way through our trip, and as little as I cared for a stranger's feelings, I didn't want the atmosphere between us to be this tense the whole time.

"Let's go get some dinner," I said. "I can drive afterwards, if you want me to."

She glanced at me, a surprised look on her face.

"See? It wasn't that hard, was it?" she asked me as we slowed down and drove off the highway, into a rest area.

"What are you talking about?"

" _Being polite._ " She flashed me a smile, right before getting off the car.

I followed her with a frown, enjoying the brief moment of brisk air before we entered the building. It was pretty large; there were quite a lot of cafés and fast foods, all of which were clustered around the perimeter of the area, whilst the middle space was filled with booths and stands of books, stuffed animals and souvenirs.

"Where would you like to eat?" Miss Swan asked me.

I let my eyes wander around, seeking for a place that would serve something seemingly healthy. I spotted a small coffee shop with a variety of sandwiches displayed, on our left hand side.

"I imagine that will do," I sighed, pointing at it.

We approached the counter and chose our dinners.

"What drink do you think I should get?" Miss Swan asked pensively, still looking up at the menu displayed right above the counter.

"How about a glass of the worst apple cider you've ever tasted?" I replied ironically, glaring at the salesperson.

"Hey, behave!"

"I'm not a child!" I snapped, hurt. How dare she? She had known me for, what, ten minutes?, and was already insulting me. Granted, I had been trying to get on her nerves for the best part of the last three-and-a-half hours, but  _still_.

"Then stop acting like one!" She turned away from me, officially ending the fight, and addressed the saleslady. "A hot cocoa for me and a hot apple cider for Your Majesty, please. Both with extra cinnamon."

"How did you know I like extra cinnamon?" I asked surprised, our quarrel already forgotten.

"I just assumed." She shrugged, leaning onto the counter as we waited. "So, how do you like New York?"

_There she goes again_ , I thought,  _trying to make small talk._

"I don't," I replied, stubborn. I found her question quite unusual – as if she thought I had just moved there, curiously enough.

"Why not? I lived there for a while, with my son. It was great."

"You have a son?" I couldn't help but ask. Albeit I had tried to mask it, my voice was filled with decades-old envy.

She hesitated. "Yes, I do. His name's Henry. He's almost fourteen, now."

"You're lucky. I've wanted a child my whole life, and yet here I am," I said with a bitter scoff. "You must have been young when you had him."

Our dinners were ready; we picked up our trays and chose a table.

"I was eighteen when he was born," she narrated, once we had sat down, "and in a prison cell in Phoenix."

I tensed up. She was a criminal?!

"Yeah, I went to jail for a robbery Henry's father did. He didn't even get caught – actually, he sort of screwed me over – but… it's complicated." She laughed a little, lost in bittersweet memories.

"He appears to be quite the asshole," I said, brutally honest, as I took a bite out of my sandwich. Much to my dismay, it was really tasty.

"I thought so too, at the time," she concurred, "but we met again and he explained why he had done it. We got back together for a while, a few years ago, before he… passed away."

It was guilt, the foreign feeling that sparkled within me at her words. I shouldn't have asked the question. "I'm sorry," I uttered, surprising myself as much as her.

"Yeah, me too. In the end, he turned out to be a great person; I wish I had realized it sooner. My parents named my brother after him, actually."

"So you had to grow Henry all by yourself?"

"Oh, not at all!" She laughed. "I gave him up as soon as he was born: I knew I couldn't give him the life he deserved, so I… gave him his best chance. He was adopted by the Mayor of the town I now live in, Storybrooke."

"Storybrooke? Seriously?" I murmured to myself. "So, now are you and this Mayor together?"

She burst into a wholehearted laughter at my question. "I'm afraid not," she replied, giggling as if it was the funniest joke she had ever heard. "We share custody of Henry. It's… much more complicated than you could ever imagine."

She didn't seem like she wanted to continue the conversation, so we finished our dinners in a comfortable silence. I thought I might have misjudged Miss Swan: she sounded like quite an interesting person. Fascinating, even. I could tell she had lived through a lot, and I was curious to know what exactly that was.

Half an hour later we were back on the highway, the oppressive, silent noise that I was so afraid of completely forgotten.

For once, I had something to distract me even if it was nighttime. Somewhat to my surprise, a simple acquaintance such as Emma Swan was saving me from myself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you to everyone who commented and bookmarked and left kudos on this fic! It makes my day, honestly. Hope you enjoyed chapter 2, and I shall see you again on Saturday! X


	3. Emma - Hidden

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First chapter from Emma's POV! Yay! Thank you all so much for your comments/bookmarks/kudos, luv ya x Enjoy!

I felt the magic in the air as soon as we crossed the town line. I had gotten so used to it by then that it had felt weird not being able to use it in New York. I saw Regina look at the Storybrooke sign, confusion dominating her demeanor, as if she had already seen it before. And if she managed to recognize the sign, then maybe seeing the whole town would've brought all of her memories back… It was unlikely, but still…

With that little spark of hope, I pulled over right across from Granny's. I noticed that a lot of people were still wandering around the town, gazing at us as soon as they saw the bug, although it was already almost eleven… Mom and dad had probably announced Regina's return.

"Why is everyone staring at you?" she asked, right before we got off.

"Actually, they're staring at you, Miss Mills," I replied, internally cringing at the nickname: it didn't feel right. It was no  _Madame Mayor_. As we approached the trunk of my car, she shot me a questioning look. "This is a very small town," I explained. "Everyone knows everything about everyone. We're not used to having visitors… which you are. You're something new, therefore they're curious about you." I had spent most of our trip trying to come up with a passable excuse for the glares she'd be receiving, and luckily she seemed to buy it.

Apparently falling for it, Regina followed me as we approached the diner, pulling her luggage along.

" _Granny's_?" she asked in a derisive tone as she read the sign right outside.

"Yup.  _Be. Nice._ " I commanded.

She glared at me but didn't reply, so we went inside.

My parents, baby Neal and Henry – as I should have imagined – were sitting at a table, their voices trailing off as the bell above the door announced our presence.

"Mom…" Henry said as soon as he saw us. He was looking at Regina, his gaze filled with the same pain and longing I was used to seeing all the time in the foster system.

I knew this wasn't easy for him – after all, he had just spent three months without his mom – but Regina couldn't suspect anything: she wouldn't have believed us, if we had told her the truth, and she would've run back to New York in a heartbeat. I couldn't let that happen. Despite how much he was hurting, we had to be careful, and Regina's obliviousness was a priority.

So I attempted to keep our cover up. "Yeah, I'm here, kid," I said, trying to warn him with a telling glance.

He seemed to catch my message, because he came to me and hugged me, sweeping the hint of puzzlement away from Regina's expression.

"You must be Miss Mills!" mom said, joining us. "It's so nice to finally meet you. I'm Mary Margaret."

"Ah, yes, Miss Blanchard," Regina replied, shaking my mom's hand. She seemed a bit shocked, probably because my mom and I looked the exact same age. She also gave a quick glance at my dad, still sat at the table with Neal, and her incredulity grew even bigger. "Mr. Swan, I suppose?"

She reached out a hand, which dad shook with a kind smile.

"David Nolan, actually. Nice to meet you." Anticipating her question, dad explained, "Yes, I am her biological father. I know it's unusual that we don't share the same last name, but… it's complicated."

Regina nodded, but I could tell she was still unsure – to say the least.

"What time do you reckon we shall meet, tomorrow?" she asked anyway, changing the subject.

"I think around ten should work. That way you can get back to New York at a decent hour," mom replied. She bent over to feed some chicken to my brother, accidentally knocking her plate over by doing so.

"Snow!" dad exclaimed in surprise, as the noise of the plate smashing on the floor caught Ruby's attention, making her scurry over to clean up the mess.

I didn't realize what name dad had used for my mother until I caught a glimpse of Regina's face: a mix of hilarity and perplexity were displayed all over her demeanor, as her brow furrowed.

Dad saw her expression too, and rushed to find an explanation. "I-I thought it was snowing," he stuttered, and I couldn't help but slap a hand to my forehead at the lame attempt of making something up. He really couldn't lie.

"But we're inside…" Regina pointed out, looking at my father as if he had suddenly grown two heads. She probably thought we were a bunch of loons, and, to be honest, who could blame her?

"Yeah, well, that's why I was so surprised," he retorted, as if it was obvious. I saw Ruby try not to laugh, hiding her grin behind the dustpan.

I took that as my cue to step in, hoping to save the situation. "You must be tired," I told Regina, giving Granny, who was inappropriately listening, a knowing look, to which she responded with a small nod; she grabbed a key from under the counter and handed it to me. "I'll show you to your room."

After she had politely bid everyone goodnight, Regina and I went to the back, where Granny's bed-and-breakfast was, and then up the stairs, stopping right in front of room 713. I opened the door for her, revealing the small lodging. She looked around, a haughty look on her face.

"Well…" she began, and I steeled myself to something offensive. "This is… hideous…"

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't deny I had missed this – her snarky attitude, the inevitable bickering between us two. I cocked my head to one side as I watched her eye the room intently, and I felt a smile creep onto my face. I made sure it had disappeared before she could see it.

"I know you don't like it, but you'll have to make do with it. Here's my number – call me if you need anything," I offered, handing her a small piece of paper.

Our fingers brushed lightly against each other as she grabbed it, and I felt the same rush of energy as this afternoon, when we shook hands. I knew exactly what it was: magic. I could tell by her hesitation that she had felt it too, but I highly doubted she had any idea what it was. It concerned me, too: New York was part of the Land Without Magic. Our powers didn't work there… Then, how had it been possible?

"Thanks," she murmured, distracting me from my thoughts. "I'll see you tomorrow, Miss Swan. Thank you for the ride."

"And thank you for the dinner," I replied. Something in her eyes was hinting me that she didn't want to be alone… But what could I do? Asking her to stay for the night would've made me sound like a creep to say the least, especially if I was misreading her behavior. I shook away that crazy idea. "Goodnight, Miss Mills."

I made my way downstairs.

"How is she?" Granny asked me. She had never been much of a fan of Regina's, but I could tell that her concern was sincere.

"She doesn't remember anything." I smiled pronouncing those words, trying to at least look strong, but my voice broke on the last syllable, and I knew I wasn't strong at all.

I noticed Ruby was looking at me shrewdly; I frowned, silently asking her what was up, but she just shrugged, an amused sneer playing on her face. I decided not to think much about it and made my way out.

My parents had already left, so I hopped on the bug and headed straight home, watching Granny close up the diner in my rearview mirror.

As I entered our apartment, a few minutes later, everyone started asking questions all at once.

"What is happening?"

"How can she be back?"

"She still doesn't remember anything, right?"

"How is she?"

"ENOUGH!" I commanded at some point. "Now, all of you, sit down and be quiet!"

My parents and Henry obeyed, apologetic, and took a seat. Zelena was there too, but she decided to stand, probably because she could rock baby Robyn a bit more easily, that way.

I told them everything I had found out during the past few hours, pacing in front of them.

"It's been two months since she cast that curse on herself," my father reasoned, "so how come she is back now?"

"I might have a theory," I explained. "I think the effects of the curse are wearing off, or maybe they were never good in the first place. She doesn't exactly  _recall_  anything, not rationally, at least… But she does recognize some things. She thought I looked familiar, she repeated things we had already talked about when she was herself – we even had a whole conversation that resembled one we had a while ago… I think she was hurting too much, when she enacted that curse, and that's why it wasn't as effective as it should have been."

I pondered on my own words for a second: when Regina had cast that curse on herself, not long after our return from the Underworld, we imagined she had been triggered by Robin's death, and she wanted to forget the sorrow that his absence was causing her. Maybe that pain had been impeding her to think and act clearly, hence the spell not working correctly.

"But then we only have to wait!" my mom exclaimed, optimistic as always. "She will start remembering more and more things while she's here, and before we know it she'll be herself again!"

"It doesn't work that way," Zelena replied, sullen. "The only way that kind of curse, faulty as it might be, can be broken is with True Love's kiss… And now that Robin is dead…"

"… No one can give her one," I finished.

"Yes, I can!" Henry exclaimed. "She's my mom, I love her more than anything…"

"Yes, kid, you do," I interrupted him. I placed my hands on his shoulders: what I was about to say was going to hurt him, so I softened my voice, trying to be as gentle as I could. "But, at the moment, she doesn't love you."

A shadow crossed his eyes as I spoke, filling them with sorrow, but that was the only sign proving that he was hurting. He sighed and gave me an understanding nod, and by his expression I could tell he was more resolute than ever. "Then we have to make her believe," he said.

I nodded, feeling my stomach contract as I realized how much he had grown up already, accepting the situation bravely, yet seeing it with the positivity and hope only a child (or Snow White) could muster.

"And that's exactly what we're going to do… But I'm afraid convincing her is going to be much harder than it was for me," I observed, worried. "During the Dark Curse I loved you, Henry, even before I believed, because I was aware that you were my son – nothing was going to change that. My True Love was real even when I didn't want to accept this whole…  _fairytale extravaganza_.

"But now, Regina doesn't know you're her son. She would have to believe in order to love you, because if you tell her that you're her son  _now_ , she'll just think that you're nuts, and before we know it she'll be off to New York once again. We have to be smart about this… We need to think this through. We can't risk losing her: if  _I_ were to leave, during the first curse, I had you as a reason to come back; but if Regina goes back to New York now, we might never be able to make her return."

Everyone was listening carefully, all sharing the same worried look.

"This is impossible," Zelena commented, suddenly.

"I don't think this is the right moment to be a pessimist!" mom replied, polemic.

"I'm not being a pessimist! I'm being realistic. Think about it: she's leaving  _tomorrow morning_. There is no way we can make her believe in a bunch of bedtime stories by then!"

"Maybe Gold can make a potion?" dad suggested.

"Yes, because during all these years we've learned that Gold can be trusted…" I pointed out.

Silence started to fill the room, as we all tried to think of a solution.

"Wait a minute," mom said, after a while. "What made her come back in the first place was, according to what she said to me on the phone, me requesting her consultancy on how to furnish this apartment… But I never asked her anything. I played along because I didn't want to waste a chance of her coming back, but I didn't need an interior designer, I never went looking for one! Whatever it was that made her come to Storybrooke, maybe can also bring back her memories!"

"I'm not sure I'm following you…" I said.

"Emma, do you remember the first curse? Everything began with the story book. It appeared in my room by itself, completely out of the blue, and it showed Henry the truth about this town. And it's also what made you remember the time you spent in the Enchanted Forest! Maybe history is repeating, maybe whatever gave Regina my name was none other than  _fate_!"

_Well, it does make sense…_  I thought. But then, why was I so skeptical? I had a feeling that that wasn't it.

However, I kept my thoughts to myself, hoping that my mother was right and my instincts weren't.

"Alright, let's go to bed, now," I murmured with a very unrefined yawn. "We'll continue the conversation tomorrow."

I approached Zelena before she could…  _poof_ … away.

"I might need your help, tomorrow morning," I informed her. I didn't know how to feel about her, yet; I didn't trust her, but I did have faith in Regina, and so did she. Ever since Regina left, we had somehow become allies, both wanting the same thing: her sister and my friend to be back.

Zelena sighed theatrically. "I might have to check my agenda. Unfortunately, the Savior's dilemmas aren't exactly a priority of mine," she snickered, predictably.

I rolled my eyes, expecting her to say something along those lines. "Do you want to help Regina or not?"

"Fine, fine! What do you want?" she said with an overly-dramatic sigh.

"I'll have to teleport every single object that is now in this flat to my mansion… you know, the house I stayed in when I was…"

"… Wicked." She sneered. "I can manage that."

"Great. Thank you," I smiled, and without another word she disappeared in a cloud of green smoke.

I laid in bed for a long time, before I could manage to fall asleep; my mind was too busy thinking of how to feel about this situation.

Were we doing the right thing? Was bringing Regina back a good choice?  _Yes, of course_ , a part of me answered immediately. And yet, I couldn't help but feel selfish. We wanted Regina to remember, but she was the one who made herself forget in the first place. Waking her up from the lie she was living, also meant shoving her right into the sorrow that this life inevitably implied. I was happy, when Henry and I were in New York…

_But you were lonely_ , a small voice from the depths of my consciousness said. It was right; but, apparently, Regina thought 'lonely' was better than 'heartbroken'. And yet, we could help her to cope with the pain; at least, I could. Not being able to bring Hook back from the Underworld had been just as painful as what she had gone through with Robin; I knew exactly how she felt.

I rolled over on the bed, burying my face in my pillow out of frustration.

_How the hell do you save someone who doesn't want to be saved?!_


	4. Emma - Decided

"Alright, you ready?" I asked.

It was the next morning, and Zelena had just arrived to help me clear our my mom's apartment: if Regina had seen it was already furnished, she would've been too suspicious about this whole situation. We needed to be extremely careful about this kind of things.

I started concentrating, feeling the magic run through me as I got ready to use it… When Zelena, with a lazy movement of her hand and a roll of her eyes, made all of the furniture disappear, only to then  _poof_  away herself.

"Well, that was easy…" I said to no one in particular, admiring her work; all of the armchairs, beds, tables, bookshelves were gone. I checked the bathroom, and it was completely empty as well. Nothing was left on the walls either. Seeing that flat so empty made me feel quite uncomfortable; I had gotten too used to it over the years, a familiar shelter that had become a part of who I was. I decided not thinking about it was the best thing to do.

Luckily, my phone went off, announcing a text message: my dad was changing Neal's diaper, under the strict supervision of my mom, and I was waiting for them to be ready for our usual 'Breakfast at Granny's'; I couldn't have asked for a better distraction.

**From: Regina** _I found a dog hair in my apple pie._

I gawked at my phone for a good thirty seconds, before realizing what was happening.  _Did she seriously just text me to_ complain _?!_

That was such a Regina thing! It made me grin despite everything. She was still there, somewhere…

"Wow, I haven't seen you smile like that in a long time!" mom commented when she saw me. She and dad were finally ready.

I quickly looked away, feeling my cheeks heat up, and we headed straight to Granny's without acknowledging the matter any further.

When we got there, one thought immediately came to my mind: something was wrong. You could hear their voices from the outside, and the conversation between Regina and Granny was most definitely not friendly. I hurried inside, planning on stopping whatever was going on quickly.

"I'm not going to pay for this, there was a dog hair inside!" Regina shouted, slamming a hand on the countertop, looking at Granny with pure hatred. As soon as she did so, the neon lights on the ceiling flickered.

She didn't seem to notice, but everyone else surely did – and flinched in surprise and fear. She didn't know she had magic, so she couldn't control it, either… I had to stop her before she made a disaster.

"Well, there is a bitch around here, now that I think about it!" Granny yelled in reply.

"ENOUGH!" I growled, for the second time in less than ten hours, standing between them and distancing Regina. I shot Granny a glower: she should've known better than to pick up a fight with an amnesiac former Evil Queen.

" _What did you call me?!_ " Regina tried to pounce on her, but I held her by her shoulders, impeding her. She squirmed out of my grip and shot everyone a look of despise, before spitting out, "I'm out of here."

As Regina slammed the front door shut, I told Granny to put that piece of pie on my tab and scurried outside, right behind that hothead.

"Miss Mills, wait!" I yelled, panting, but she didn't listen. I kept running until I managed to finally catch up with her. "Well, you sure know how to make a scene."

"Oh, now don't you start too!"

"Hey, I was just joking," I replied, patiently, waiting for us to be sat on a bench right in front of the clock tower to continue. "But if I were you, I would show some respect to the Sheriff."

"Who, Lady Tremaine back there?" she scoffed, ironic.

"No," I said, slightly baffled by her choice of words, "me."

She turned towards me, raising an eyebrow. "You're the Sheriff," she said, skeptical and even a bit jeering.

I simply nodded in response, chin up with pride.

"You used to be a thief," she said, as if it didn't make sense, "and now you're a sheriff."

"Is it so hard to believe?"

"Well, dear, let's just say that, if that's how the government makes its choices, then no wonder this country is falling apart…" she commented.

_Ouch_. I didn't reply to that, giving her time to cool off.

"I do respect you," she said after a while. She was slightly uncomfortable, but I could tell she wasn't lying. "I just have a bit of a quick temper, that's it."

I giggled at what clearly was the understatement of the year, and she grinned in return.

"You should smile more." The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. It didn't embarrass me, though – it was the simple truth. I shrugged. "Your whole face lights up. It's nice."

By the look on Regina's face I could tell she was surprised and, seemingly, flattered. I didn't know what had gotten into me. It was simply something that I had always wanted to tell Regina, and now that she was back I wanted to make sure she knew; after all, that could be the last day I would be able to see her for a very long time.

She looked away, admiring the speckled sky, lost in her thoughts. I noticed a slight blush on her cheeks, and I couldn't stop the wave of smugness that spread through me.

"It doesn't often happen that I smile," she confessed in a bittersweet voice.

"How come?"

"I very rarely have something worth smiling for." She shrugged. "My life tends to be very uneventful, a never-ending routine that oscillates from work to mental issues and then back to work again."

"Mental issues?" I could hear the astonishment-mixed-concern in my voice.  _This is new_ …

"Yes – well, at least that's what I believe they are. I'm not sure why I'm telling you this, but I have a lot of trouble sleeping," she articulated. "Call me insane, but I can't stand the noise of The City. It's bearable during the day, when I have things to distract me, but at nighttime it becomes simply overwhelming… It makes me feel as if I'm not meant to be there. Tonight I managed to sleep, even if only for a couple of hours, for the first time since I have memory."

So she wasn't happy in New York, either… Maybe bringing her back wasn't all that selfish, after all.

"I don't think you're crazy," I said quickly. "Your brain is telling you that you don't belong in New York. That's completely understandable. Why… why don't you stay here for a while? It might do you some good. You can restore yourself."

"I thought about that as well," she murmured. "This would also be a nice place to live in, although I would probably be unemployed – I don't think many people here need an interior designer, albeit those rooms at the inn truly are unwatchable…"

"…Alright, enough of that." I interrupted her rant about Granny's and stood up. "I still haven't had breakfast, and you still haven't made up with Granny. Just know that, if you decide to stay for a while, I can show you a nice place – a friend's house, much more tasteful than the B&B. She's… on vacation, but she wouldn't mind letting you stay there."

Regina walked with me, even though a few vexed snorts hinted me that she wasn't exactly enthusiastic about the idea of apologizing.

"What even is her name?" she asked me, as we got closer to our destination.

I assumed she was talking about Granny, but I froze, flaring my eyes in surprise. "I… have absolutely no idea."

The corners of her mouth quirked up at my words, but she didn't reply as we entered the diner yet again. Regina and Granny seemed to avoid eye contact as much as possible, during the time we were in there, but at least they made an effort not to yell at each other. We sat with my parents and Ruby, whom, for the second time, gave me a weird look – again, one I couldn't decipher.

As they went on making small talk and I finished my breakfast, I tried to think of a way to make Regina believe in less than two hours; the only answer I could find to that question was to use magic right in front of her, but I immediately excluded the option: she was definitely going to think she had actually gone nuts, and I didn't want that to happen.  _I just need more time…_

It didn't take long for my wish to be granted.

Ten minutes later we were back at the loft, and Regina was expertly eying the main room. Mom and dad shared a worried look, probably concerned that by the end of this sham our flat would end up looking like Regina's office back at Town Hall.

"You know, I kind of feel like I've already been here," she murmured, and everyone in the room held their breath, "so I already have a plan on how to furnish your apartment. Now, I have to go back to New York to arrange some things with my boss and change my schedule a bit, but I'll be back in a few days with my ideas all printed out, so that you can give me your opinion."

My heart skipped a beat. She was coming back to Storybrooke! A part of my mind realized I was beaming, but it really didn't care. We had a chance to have our Regina back, and nothing else mattered.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's chapter 4! Sorry it's so short. As always, thank you all for the overwhelming feedback, it warms my heart x


	5. Emma - Left

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short chapter, I'm sorry! I promise they'll be longer from now on.  
> I just wanted to tell you all that I officially finished writing this fic! Yay! It's been a long journey, and I loved every moment of it.  
> As always, thank you very much for the feedback and I shall see you on Tuesday with a better chapter x

"I'm thinking about going to New York," I told my parents an hour later, while Regina was upstairs doing… interior designer stuff.

"Emma, I think Regina will be able to look after herself, there's no need for that," dad reasoned, careful not to be heard from our guest.

"That's not the only reason I'm going," I whispered back. "I was just at the library: Belle and I did some research, and apparently there's a man in New York – a man who can use magic even in a Land that doesn't have any. August told me about him as well, once, although he was in Honk Kong at the time. They call him Dragon."

"And you think he might know a way to bring back Regina's memories?"

"I sure hope so."

Our murmured conversation was interrupted as the woman in question walked down the stairs.

"Alright," she told mom, holding a clipboard in her right hand and a measuring tape in the other, "I've got everything measured out; I'll design a few diagrams in New York and I will be back in two days' time to show you."

"Thank you for your help, Miss Mills," mom replied, an actress following a script, and shook her former enemy's hand.

"I'll get back to New York with you," I informed Regina. "I have a few things I need to get done there. But this time,  _please_ , let's go by plane!"

* * *

* * *

Mom and dad drove us to the nearest airport, and less than a few hours later Regina and I were already in a cab, inevitablystuck in New York's everlasting traffic.

The journey had been pleasant; we talked a lot, she fought with a few flight assistants and we arranged for having a night in. She also offered me her couch to stay for the night, but I didn't want to be any trouble, and she didn't insist. I supposed she was probably torn: maybe she thought that, if I stayed, she wouldn't have a nervous breakdown, but she still didn't want to risk being seen like that – and I completely understood. I decided to just stay at Neal's old flat, which wasn't very far away from her own, so that I could go there if she needed me.

It took a while for us to get to the Upper East Side, but eventually we managed to glide through the crowd of cars and leave our baggage at her place. I was going to bring mine to Neal's after we had had dinner.

"I don't know how long I'll be, but I'll text you when I'm done and I'll come pick you up," I told her as she drove us to her agency's establishment.

"Are you sure you're going to be okay, Miss Swan?" she asked, surprisingly concerned, as we got off her car. "You haven't been in New York for a long time…"

"I'll be fine, don't worry," I reassured her. "I know my way around this city. I'll be back soon."

I walked out of the parking lot as she headed to the entrance of the building. I knew Manhattan like the back of my hand; it wasn't long until I had arrived to a herbal shop in Soho and went in.

It was a very small and anonymous space, packed with shelving and booths of jars full of mysterious-looking plants and vegetables. Along the ceiling were a quantity of traditional Chinese lanterns, banners I couldn't read and fuzzy garlands. However, there was clearly no one there.

"Hello?" I said loudly.

A salt-and-pepper bearded man suddenly appeared behind me, seemingly out of nowhere, his footsteps making me jump in surprise.

I was about to introduce myself, but he talked first, suggesting that there was no need for a presentation.

"What could the Savior possibly want from a humble herbalist like myself?" he asked in a soft voice, his accent matching his oriental features.

"I suppose you're the man that goes by the name of Dragon," I said, my tone detached and professional. I wanted him to know immediately that I wasn't there to play around.

He nodded once, apparently unfazed by my voice.

"And I think you already know why I'm here."

"You have come to me in hopes of finding a way to wake your friend from the curse she has cast on herself," he replied, calm. "However, I am afraid I cannot help you. This is something you need to figure out on your own."

"But I don't know how, and I might not have enough time to figure it out!" I exclaimed, panicked. I really did think this Dragon would have a solution for Regina's problem.

"Time is nothing but an idea. You've changed it once already, you can do it again."

I sighed, saddened. What the hell was that supposed to mean?

Resigned to the fact that he wasn't going to tell me anything actually useful, I decided to just give up the cause; I could manage to help Regina by myself.

"Thank you for your time," I said with a simper, and headed to the front door.

"Remember," he told me before I was gone, "sometimes, what is right in front of your eyes is the hardest thing to see."

And with that he walked behind a stand of his merchandise and vanished, leaving me with that riddle of a sentence ricocheting through my mind.

Not that I didn't understand what the phrase itself meant; I just couldn't figure out how it could relate to the situation Regina was in. I tried to decipher his words, read between the lines, but I still didn't comprehend what his suggestion applied to.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I almost didn't realize I had just walked to Neal's apartment. I went inside: I was planning on making a stop there anyway, before picking Regina up.

I looked around the lounge and then his bedroom; everything was the same as the last time I had been there, of course, but it still hurt to see his whole life around me. I didn't think time was ever going to heal over the wounds on my heart that Neal and Hook had left. I could move on, of course; I could be happy. But a part of me was always going to miss them, of that I was sure.

I didn't exactly know why I had felt the urge to go there; maybe I was hoping to find something useful for Regina, or maybe I just needed to make sure I would be mentally and emotionally ready to spend the night there by myself. Either way, I walked around the modest flat, stopping every now and again to take a look at something that had drawn my attention. For some reason, it took me a while to notice a small crystal crown on a shelf, just about as big as a walnut, right next to a messy pile of books; I had walked past that spot several times already, I even read the titles of the volumes, but for some reason I was only seeing it now. I grabbed it. It was heavier than I had anticipated, and had a slightly yellow tint to it. I knew I should have left it there – especially considering that it looked quite expensive, and although Neal had passed away it still felt like stealing… Yet, my guts were telling me that I should keep it, and so I did.

With my hands in my pockets, I kept fiddling absent-mindedly with the crystal, as I made my way back to Regina's workplace. I took a few shortcuts in order to get there sooner, and after a good half-hour of walking I had finally arrived to the building.

I texted her, and she buzzed me in. The entrance was very stern-looking, almost emotionless, and so were the corridors I walked to get to Regina's office. A pattern of white and light grey furniture reflected the mixed light of the sun and the lamps, making the place so bright that my eyes were starting to water. Every step I made on the tiled floor echoed on the walls, and it felt as if I was drawing everyone's attention on me: as I walked past them, all of the people in the hallway glanced up at me, curios to know what an unknown visitor was doing there.

Regina's office was on the third floor, according to her text, so I took the just-as-severe elevator and waited as it accompanied me upstairs. Once its plain metal doors had slid open, I found myself once again surrounded by light colors – except for one door, on the left, that was completely black, and it didn't take long for me to deduce whose office it led to. A brass plaque that read, 'R. Mills,' right on top confirmed my hypothesis.

I knocked once on the polished ebony and waited for a frustrated, "What?!" before walking inside.

"Yeah, I'm happy to see you too, Miss Mills," I replied sarcastic. "If I'm bothering you I can go back to your place and just wait for you there-"

"No, you can stay," she said with a softer voice, "I'm just frustrated: I've been trying to reach out to my assistant for the past two days and she keeps ignoring me – and that is the kind of behavior that  _really_  grinds my gears. She didn't even have the decency to resign or at the very least inform me that she wasn't coming in to work," she explained. "Anyhow, I'm almost finished here. I've drawn and printed out the blueprints of your mother's flat and I have on my laptop a tridimensional graphic with all of the potential furniture already arranged. I'll just finish touching up a couple more things and we'll be ready to go back to Storybrooke by tomorrow." She beamed, seemingly satisfied and proud of her work, and I couldn't help but grin back.

I wandered around the office as silently as possible, browsing the room while she finished her project. It was quite large, definitely bigger than most people's workplaces, and the way it was decorated resembled Regina's other office, back at Storybrooke: every piece of furniture was either black or white, and everything was intently tidy – absolutely nothing seemed out of place. The only pop of color was the bright red of the fake apples that filled a bowl right on top of a bookshelf behind Regina's desk, both of which were of the same dark wood as the door. I looked at her, her expression revealing how focused she was: her eyes moved quickly from the computer screen to her laptop and back, her brow furrowed. She gazed up, her eyes meeting my own, and I quickly looked away, flushing for being caught staring.

I diverted my attention onto one of the paintings that hung from the patterned wall, but I didn't understand a thing of art, so I felt quite relieved when Regina said she was ready to go. She put her laptop into its case and we took off.


	6. Regina - Slept

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the (slight) delay, everyone! I just had a loooong day at uni and I only have time to update now. Still, hope you enjoy this chapter!

Miss Swan and I were sitting on the couch, eating the Chinese food that she had so chivalrously bought for us and watching some uninterestingly silly movie. I was in my nightwear already, without a hint of makeup on my face – hoping she wouldn't mind the slovenliness.

_Why would you care, anyway?_ , a voice at the back of my mind asked. I promptly decided it would be best to ignore it.

Miss Swan had changed into some more comfortable clothes as well, and seeing her in a tank top and sweatpants, with her hair up in a loose knot, for some inexplicable reason was really distracting. I was finding it quite hard to concentrate on the plot of the movie, and I earnestly couldn't fathom why.

I felt really comfortable, nevertheless. Hanging out with Miss Swan was easy, almost natural, and it made me feel at ease. It seemed like I had known her for years, not just a handful of days, and that had never occurred to me before. Well, getting along with people in general had never occurred to me before, but still.

Desperately trying to focus on something that wasn't Miss Swan's body, I grabbed the blanket that I usually kept on my couch and threw it over us to hide her form from sight, curling up so that my feet wouldn't get cold. However, I didn't consider the fact that, in order to both fit under the plaid, she had to move closer, so now we were  _touching_ , and I was  _freaking out_. What was up with me lately?! I almost lost it when she turned towards me and rest her legs onto my lap, her attention never diverting from the movie. I could feel the adrenaline rise up, making me tense and slightly shake; my heartbeat was increasing in speed, and I was definitely on the verge of hyperventilation. Not to mention those butterflies that were, most likely, dancing the conga in my stomach… It was almost as if I had become a teenager dealing with her first crush, all over again. Wait,  _what_?!

_It's alright, Regina_ , I said to myself.  _It's probably just food poisoning or an indigestion. Think about apples… Think about red apples and everything will be fine…_

A few minutes later I was already better; thank gods I had my apples to keep me sane. However, now that the rush of adrenaline had abandoned me, completely draining my energy, I was feeling extremely tired, so I still couldn't manage to concentrate on the movie. Not that it mattered much, now: it had been an hour and a half already, and it was almost over.

I really didn't want that night to end. I had never been that  _human_  with anyone else before; for a change, with Miss Swan I felt as if I could be myself. I trusted a complete stranger, and I somehow knew I wasn't going to rue it.

Eventually, the TV faded to black and the end credits began to roll on the screen, darkening the entire room. I grabbed the remote control and turned it off, while Miss Swan – surprisingly to my disappointment – took her legs off of me and stood up, stretching.

"So, did you like it?" she asked me, obviously referring to the movie, while I turned on the light.

"Oh, indeed. I loved it," I lied, and she gave me a suspicious look, as the ghost of a smile touched her lips.

"Really?" she said, still staring at me appraisingly, her eyes narrowed as she slowly stepped towards me. "Did I ever mention I have a superpower, Miss Mills?"

Her voice was calm, yet quite different from its usual tone – almost playfully menacing. Her head was tilted to one side, and she was clearly analyzing my every reaction – which I didn't condone, seeing how much I was starting to  _freak out_ , once again, because of her proximity. For every step she made forward, I made one backwards, trying to keep her at a safe distance.

"No," I replied, my voice firm, my chin high. I could tell she looked quite intimidating, but I wasn't going to let her win that little game. Ever so defiant, I gave her a challenging look.

"Well, I have one," Miss Swan said, and once again she stepped forward. My back was now against the wall, the cold surface making me shiver… or perhaps it was just the exhilarating static tension that flowed between us. She was uncomfortably close to me, our bodies only a few inches apart – yet she wasn't touching me at all, which frustrated me even more. "I can always tell when someone is lying."

I didn't like that position of inferiority: it seemed as if I was the pray, and she was the predator, content of trapping me. Little did she know, I was no pray; I inched closer to her face and, as I had anticipated, she got distracted, inadvertently drifting her gaze from my eyes to my lips. I used that moment of hesitation to my advantage, pulling away from the wall and turning us around, my arms stretched forward, hands flat on the surface at either side of her head, so that now our roles were inverted, and she was trapped. Our bodies hadn't even brushed against each other yet.

"I'll keep that in mind," I replied with a smirk, and enjoyed the disbelief-mixed-admiration on her flushed face as I stepped away, breaking the moment.

_What the hell just happened?_ , I asked myself, unable to find an answer – or rather, not wanting to acknowledge it.

I didn't address it, and changed the subject instead. "Would you like to stay for the night?" I offered again, for the third time in two days. I didn't precisely know if I kept asking to be polite, or if I somehow irrationally hoped that she'd help me sleep. I surely knew that, if she were to accept my offer, I'd most definitely… freak out. Obviously. She might see me lose not only my composure, but also every ounce of control I had over my mind; only the thought of it made me panic.

"I don't think you're ready for that," she replied, wise. "You might not be ready to share your… 'dark side'… with me yet, and I don't want to force you into anything you're not one hundred percent sure of."

I smiled warmly at her words, grateful for the great respect she showed me. It amazed me how much she had already understood about me; I was unexpectedly glad I had met such an introspective person. Not that I would ever admit to that out loud, of course.

"Thank you for the dinner, Miss Swan," I told her as I walked her to the front door of my apartment, her suitcase trailing idly behind her.

"Oh, come on! You can call me Emma," she replied with a genuine smile. "Thank you for the great evening. Call me if you need anything."

And she was gone.

I sighed as I closed the door behind her, and walked to the bathroom to start my nighttime routine. I procrastinated going to sleep as much as I could, re-checking the graphic of Miss Blanchard's apartment, leafing through my clients' folders and reading a book, but eventually I couldn't come up with anything else to do, and flopped down on the bed.

I was insanely tired, but I knew that wasn't going to help at all. I thought back to the moments I had just spent with…  _Emma_ … and it did distract me for a bit; however, I didn't want to linger too much on those thoughts either, unconsciously scared – of what, I didn't know – and so I closed my eyes.

It was all vehicles, screams and alarms from there. Every now and then a few police cars and ambulances drove by as well, their annoyingly loud sirens making them recognizable. I felt the reality around me disappear, as the noise sucked it out from my surroundings and filled the void it had left.

I didn't want it to happen again. Not after last night, when I was finally able to enjoy the silence and rest for a couple hours, in Storybrooke…

I grabbed my phone, determined at first, and dialed and erased Emma's number so many times that, by the time I finally decided to press the green button on the touchscreen, I had learned it by heart.

I heard her pick up; I was about to talk, when her voice, husky from sleep, impeded me. "I'm on my way."

Ten minutes later I was greeting her at my doorstep, shameful and sorry for waking her up and being such a bother.

Before I was able to apologize, she raised a hand, stopping me, and tilted her chin towards the bedroom. I noticed she wasn't wearing any makeup either, now, and the clothes she was wearing – the same tank top and baggy pants as before – were full of wrinkles. I only lazily registered that she had walked through the streets of New York in her sleepwear. Her eyes were half closed, proving that she had just woken up. I fleetingly thought she looked exceptionally pretty, as I walked with her into my room and, eventually, hid under the warm comforter of my bed.

Emma closed her eyes almost immediately, murmuring a slurred, "'Night, 'Gina", to which I didn't respond.

I didn't know what to do, or what to think. I was increasingly more scared as time went by, and I was already regretting inviting her over – although no formal invitation had actually been offered.

My silence seemed to worry her, because she opened her eyes and looked at me, her brow furrowed.

"Everything okay?" she murmured, suddenly more awake, now that I needed her.

I nodded briefly, before recalling what she had told me earlier: she could always tell when people lied. She didn't say anything to confute my words, though. She wiped away any trace of emotions from her face and wrapped her arms around me, pulling me closer ever-so-gently. I didn't freak out as I had predicted; I needed this too much to. I let out a shaky sigh, doing my best not to cry, and hugged her back instead. It was comforting, and once again I felt that static electricity that seemed to constantly surround us. She was a stranger, and yet I had never felt more safe.

"Once upon a time," she whispered, just loud enough for me to hear her, "there lived a smart, kind, beautiful young woman…"

"Are you seriously telling me a bedtime story?" I mocked her.

"Hey, I'm trying to help, here!" she replied, pretending to be hurt. "Shut up and listen."

I did as she said.

"This girl fell deeply in love with the stable boy at her mansion; when they were together, they were happier than they'd ever been. They felt as if nothing in the world could go wrong.

"One day, during one of her frequent horse rides, she saw a child in danger, and hurried to save her from a terrible destiny. She soon found out that the little girl was none other than the King's daughter whom, to thank the young woman, proposed.

"Her heart broke, when her mother accepted the proposal on her behalf. She didn't want to marry someone she didn't love; she didn't care about status, she wanted to spend the rest of her life with her True Love: the stable boy. She secretly asked him to get married, planning on eloping."

" _She_ proposed to  _him_? I quite like this princess already," I chuckled.

Emma joined me for a moment, before resuming, "However, the little princess saw them; she felt really sad, at first, wanting the kind, beautiful woman as her new mother; but after she had explained how she felt for the stable boy, the child understood, promising not to reveal the girl's secret.

"Unfortunately, she didn't keep her promise. Believing to be helping the young woman, the princess told her mother about her plans with the stable boy, which eventually led that horrible woman to killing her daughter's fiancé. The girl ended up marrying the King, fulfilling her mother's dreams. Once the now-Queen had found out it was the younger girl's fault, filled with infinite pain and thirst for revenge, she spent her life hunting her stepdaughter down, doing whatever was in her power to destroy her happiness."

"I think I may have heard this story before," I murmured, and I felt her stiffen up, probably because I was interrupting her for the third time. I continued nonetheless. "I sympathize with that princess. She saw the love of her life die right before her, and that must have been an agonizing scene to witness."

"It was. The day the princess was to give birth to her first child, the Queen enacted a curse onto the whole kingdom, sending everyone away to a land without magic, where time stood still and no one but her knew who they actually were."

"What happened to the child?" I asked, worried. Funny, how much a simple fairytale was involving me – or how a complete stranger was holding me in her arms, as if comforting me was her absolute priority.

"She was sent to the same land, close yet far from her parents. She spent her childhood from a foster family to another, hoping that someone would adopt her, or at least that she could find out who her parents – who  _she_  was. Of course her parents couldn't reach out to her: they didn't even remember she existed.

"She had a son, whom she gave up, granting him his best chance; little did she know, that child was going to change her life completely.

"He had been adopted by none other than the Queen, who was initially oblivious to his true identity; it wasn't until ten years later that the kid found his birthmother and led her to the cursed town, revealing her own true identity and that she had been prophesized to be the Savior that could free the town from the Dark Curse.

"She managed to save the kingdom and be reunited with her family, but the Queen wasn't happy about that: she had lost so much already, and now her son was leaving her as well. She hurt more than anyone else, because, unlike them, she was alone.

"Eventually, she managed to suppress her desire of vengeance, and was accepted by her former stepdaughter as part of the family."

She paused for a second.

"Did the Queen and the Savior ever get to live happily ever after?" I inquired with a yawn. I was getting so sleepy…

Emma sighed, pulling away from the hug and looking me in the eye. She gave me a small, rueful smile.

"No."


	7. Regina - Arrived

I woke up the following day feeling unusually cold.

It took me a second to fully register that I had just  _woken up_. From being  _asleep_.

It took even longer to remember why. I moved my gaze over to my right and there she was:  _Emma_ , her pink lips ever-so-slightly ajar, her blonde hair so tangled they resembled a bird's nest. She was wrapped like a burrito into my comforter, which thoroughly explained my uncommonly freezing state: she hadn't even left a corner for me to warm up.

With the covers tucked up tight under her chin, she looked young, innocent, unexpectedly vulnerable: the last one being an adjective that didn't match her personality at all – at least, not the slice of it that she had shared with me. She also seemed much more relaxed than usual, as if she was finally freed from the burden of a sorrow that inevitably took over her when she was awake.

Realizing I had been, eerily enough, staring at a sleeping person for several minutes, I moved my gaze onto the alarm clock on my left; slightly bemused by the fact that its digits were now displaying 8:16, I grabbed my phone and gasped.

_13:48_.

_What_.

I kept gawking at the screen in utter disbelief. The previous night had witnessed what had been, by far, the most restoring sleep of my life, and I was feeling more rested than ever before; despite that, never would I have conceived that I'd ever be able to sleep for over fourteen hours straight, and completely forget to show up at work.

I hopped off the bed as quickly as I could, careful not to disturb the sleeping form at my side, and I rushed to the kitchen: I needed to phone Mr. Dawson, and that was the furthest room from my bedroom, so there was no risk of waking Emma.

I dialed my boss's number and impatiently waited for him to pick up, my heart pounding tempestuously in my chest.

"Regina! I was just wondering where you'd been," he said with his usual cheerful voice. Well, at least he didn't sound angry…

"Mr. Dawson, I'm sorry I didn't show up at the agency: I completely forgot to set up an alarm and consequently slept in…" I stammered out, pacing the floor.

"Regina, it's alright." He interrupted my rambling. "I know you didn't mean to, and that's okay. This would be the first time ever that you showed up late, and surely I won't risk losing you for such a trivial reason! You're my best employee, there's no way I'll ever fire you." He chuckled a bit. So I wasn't in trouble? "Why don't you take a day off? Or maybe even a week! I can't recall the last time you've gone on leave, and surely a break won't hurt you."

"Sir, are you certain? I don't mind working, you know that…"

"I insist, Regina. Now, go have fun. I'll see you in a week." And with that, he hung up.

Speechless and dazed, I returned to the bedroom. I realized I had the option of going back to sleep, and that was such an unfamiliar, unknown possibility – one I had never had chance of having, before… I couldn't tell whether I liked it or not.

Then I saw Emma, still fast asleep, and I mentally corrected myself: going back to sleep  _wasn't_  an option. The woman stole my comforter. Oddly both annoyed and amused, I slipped out of my silk pajama and walked to my dresser in my underwear, indecisive about what to wear for my first day off ever. What did common people even do, when they went on leave?

I turned around as I heard rustling, and I saw a disheveled Emma look around the room with her eyes barely open.

"'Morning," she yawned when she saw me, her eyes lingering on my half-nude form for longer than what was expected. Was she… actually  _checking me out_? Perhaps it was just my impression. Despite that, I would've sworn I could feel Emma's eager stare on my body even after I had turned my attention back to the dresser, and I couldn't help but be somewhat flattered by her attention. I was probably still half asleep, and couldn't think straight.

"Actually, it's two in the afternoon," I replied, finally opting for some slacks and a burgundy shirt.

"Did you manage to get some sleep?" she asked, thoughtful, swinging her legs over the side of the bed.

I froze for a moment, when I noticed she wasn't wearing her pajama bottoms anymore.

"Yeah, I- I've actually just woken up. My boss practically forced me to get vacation leave, hence I didn't get in trouble at work…"

She seemed pleased with the information, proud to have succeeded in being a living sleeping pill, as she stood up.

"Woah, that's cool. Hey, why don't you stay in Storybrooke for a while? Get a bit of fresh air, work on my mom's apartment. You can stay at my place, if you'd like," she offered, and I couldn't help but look as she bended over to grab her pajama bottoms from the floor. I was taken aback when I realized I was finding boy shorts surprisingly sexy, especially when they hugged her cheeks so that only the bottom rim was shown...

"Why did you take them off?" I asked her, momentarily changing the subject in hope for a distraction: my thoughts were heading in a dangerous direction.

Emma looked at me, confused at first, but as I nodded towards her pants she understood.

"Oh, I was too hot," she explained, "so I took them off and they must have fallen from the bed during the night, 'cause I woke up at some point, feeling cold, and I couldn't find them…"

"…So you decided to wrap yourself up in the comforter," I finished her sentence accusingly, a little annoyed, "leaving me completely uncovered."

She gave me a guilty look; I decided the best thing to do was to just let it go, so, with a last glare, I walked to the bathroom and took a shower. The warm stream of water rinsed off any trace of sleepiness and calmed my nerves, and when I stepped out of the bathroom I was feeling more restored than ever, and in a particularly good mood that I wasn't accustomed to.

After getting dressed, I noticed Emma wasn't in the bedroom anymore; I found her in the kitchen, making breakfast (or lunch, rather),  _still in her underwear_.

"That smells edible," I commented, surprisingly enjoying how comfortable she was in my kitchen.

"Hope you like pancakes," she replied, seemingly relieved that I wasn't angry at her anymore, "because that's literally as far as my cooking skills go."

"I do," I replied with a chuckle, grabbing the syrup from the fridge and sitting at my island. "I thought about what you offered earlier. Staying in Storybrooke? I think it may be salubrious, for me. Salutary."

"If I may say so myself, I'm full of good ideas," she teased, placing two plates full of food on the countertop. "Oh, by the way – I booked us a flight, it leaves in a few hours. I'll help you pack, if you want."

"Thank you, dear."

Before I could help myself to any of the delicious-smelling food in front of me, I stood up and approached the refrigerator to collect some juice, when the doorbell rang.

"I got it," Emma said, heading to the entrance.

"You're half naked," I pointed out in reply, but she shrugged, with a look that clearly stated, 'I couldn't care less'.

I took the juice box and placed it on the isle, before idly following her.

The postman was holding a rectangular package, waiting for Emma to take it, as he shamelessly checked her out. She, however, was staring at the information displayed right on top of it in complete perturbation: her jaw was clenched tight, her lips pursed.

I raised an eyebrow at the delivery man, granting him my best baleful look, and he proceeded to move his gaze anywhere but on Emma.  _Good boy_.

I shot a glance at the package and immediately understood what the problem was; I signed for the delivery and grabbed it, pulling a still upset Emma inside.

_Regina Mills and Emma Swan,_

_35/B Columbus Ave,_

_Manhattan, NYC_

I read the words over and over again, trying to figure out how could anyone possibly know Emma was there with me; every explanation I managed to come up with made no sense whatsoever.

Emma was sitting on the couch right next to me, hands in her hair, elbows resting on her knees. Her uneasiness was obvious, almost tangible; but I suspected it was melting into more of a thorough upset, as the minutes ticked by.

"Are you okay?" I asked. It was the first time any of us broke the silence since the doorbell had rang.

She shook her head, predictably.

"Don't open it," she ordered with a flat voice, and retired to the kitchen.

I did as she said, because it seemed as if she knew something about that package that I ignored, and I was growing quite concerned.

We finished our breakfasts in silence, both lost in our own thoughts; I absentmindedly set the dishes into the dishwasher as Emma got dressed, and then started packing, making sure that still wrapped parcel was in my suitcase as well.

"Hey, do you mind if I wear these?" she asked me. I looked up at her: she was dressed in the only pair of casual denims I owned and a red shirt, a much brighter shade than her usual jacket. "I came here in my pajama last night, and I didn't think of bringing any clothes with me."

"Red suits you," I commented after I had taken a good look at her, without thinking. "It brings out your eyes."

"Is that a yes?" She smirked, flattered, and started folding the clothes I had laid out on the bed and tidily placing them in my valise.

"Well, you're already wearing them, aren't you? If I said no, you'll just keep them on anyway," I grumbled.

A taxi-stuck-in-traffic ride later, after having stopped at the apartment she was supposed to stay in to collect her baggage, we were taking our seats on the plane that would've brought us back to Portland; Emma's parents were going to pick us up there. I didn't know why we couldn't have just taken a cab, but she insisted on going with Mr. Nolan and Miss Blanchard. Their last names confused me almost as much as their age did. Weren't they married? If so, why did my client still go by "Miss"? I assumed it was none of my concern, anyway.

Although I had done as Emma had asked, not opening the parcel, and none of us had mentioned it since that brief conversation on the sofa, the question of who could have possibly sent it was still lingering in my mind, and I was more than certain that she was thinking about it as well. I didn't want to bring the matter up first, but my curiosity prevailed on my good sense.

"You know who posted us that package, don't you?" I questioned.

Emma diverted her gaze from the window and looked at me instead. She appeared worried and determined, as if she was used to facing that sort of situations. She seemed to be internally debating on whether to tell me the truth or not.

"I might have an idea," she finally answered, "but you wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Try me," I ordered, wayward.

She quickly hinted at the people sitting closest to us, hence within earshot, and I understood her silent message. I started feeling nervous, only now struck with the realization of just how grave this problem most likely was.

She went back to looking outside the window, her gaze lost over the horizon. A small furrow formed right between her eyebrows, for a short moment, but she wiped it away as soon as a flight attendant asked us if we would like something to eat.

I knew Emma had a lot on her mind, so I decided to stay silent for the rest of the trip, not wanting to bother her any further, and after a few hours we were once again crossing the Storybrooke town line.

"Come with me," Emma told me, imperative, as soon as we got out of her father's truck. With a resolute expression on her face, she then addressed her parents. "I'm gonna tell her everything."

What?

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Miss Blanchard asked, and I was really confused. My heart started racing, and I readied myself to something  _big_. I didn't suspect I was in any danger, though; not with Emma.

She nodded, her wan eyes hinting just how little of a choice she actually had.

I hesitantly followed her as she crossed roads and turned corners, both dragging our suitcases behind us, before stopping in front of a big, white mansion, surrounded by a well-kept garden and meticulously trimmed hedges.

"Whose house is this?" I asked, unsure.

She turned to face me, her features devoid of any emotion.

"Yours."


	8. Regina - Revealed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the amazing feedback you've been leaving! It honestly makes my day. I love ya. This chapter is kind of a pivotal one, I hope you'll like it.

"Are you saying that this is where I'm going to stay for the next week?" I asked, puzzled. She unlocked the front door and held it open for me to enter the luxurious place.

She shook her head.

"It's much more complicated than that," she explained, as she ushered me to the wide, lavish lounge. "You're going to need a drink."

She opened a cabinet and pulled out a glass bottle full of amber liquid. She poured the scotch into two tumblers and handed one to me, which I gratefully accepted: I really needed something to soothe my nerves.

Placing the alcohol bottle onto the glass coffee table, she sank into one of the armchairs and I took a seat onto the couch, sipping onto my drink. I enjoyed its burning sensation as it gently slid down my throat, immediately feeling a bit more confident.

"Mind if I join you?" someone said behind me, making me jolt in surprise and almost spill my drink.

The first thing I noticed about the man standing in the middle of the room, his left hand resting nonchalantly on a black, gold-trimmed cane, was that he must have been Scottish: his accent was fairly uncommon. The second thing was that he was holding a glass of scotch as well, although the bottle was definitely out of his reach, so he must have already been there when we arrived.

At first, I assumed Emma had invited him, but by the look on her face I realized he wasn't supposed to be there. I tensed up.  _Who is this man?_

"What do you want, Gold?" she asked, stern.

The man slowly approached us, unbuttoning his suit jacket as he sat down right next to me. With what I hoped was an unnoticeable movement, I slid as far away from him as I could.

"Oh, by now you should know there's only one thing I could possibly want from you, Miss Swan," he said, sugared.

"I have no intention of making a deal with you," she hissed in reply. "Now, if you don't mind…"

"Yeah, but – see, you're going to want to hear my offer," he paused for a second before adding, with a smile that was as phony as it was eerie, " _dearie_."

Emma glared at him, pure disgust on her face. I was getting more and more worried: who was this man? A criminal? Because I felt like he was about to threaten her, and that was unacceptable to say the least.

Interpreting her silence as a permission to continue, he went on talking. "That parcel you received? I need it," he said.

I was even more confused by his words: how could he possibly know about it?

"And what would you do for me?" she spat out.

For some reason, I knew she shouldn't have accepted the deal, regardless of what she would be offered.

"I will leave our dear Mayor alone," he replied with a fake, oddly baleful smile, looking at me shrewdly.

I gazed at Emma, trying to understand by her demeanor what was going on. She was thinking fast, I could tell; at some point, her expression changed, and I sensed she knew what to do.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Gold," she said. "I don't think I'm interested."

And with that, she raised a hand and, somehow, a cloud of white smoke surrounded us. I closed my eyes instinctively, and when I carefully opened them again, I froze.

We weren't in the same room anymore; the lounge had inexplicably turned into an office – very well decorated, in black and white forest wallpaper, patterned tiles and furniture of the same colors. There was a sitting area with couches and a fireplace, and our suitcases were laying on top of a round woven carpet.

I knew my mouth had dropped open; I was utterly staggered. I looked up at Emma, but it was fairly dark and I couldn't exactly see what she was doing: she was standing in front of the double door, her hands raised up high, and it looked as though a white, opalescent film was forming over the wooden surface.

It took her a few seconds, but she ran up to me as soon as she was done, gently leading me to the closest chair and helping me sit down.

"Are you okay?" she asked, fretting about me.

I looked at her in disbelief, managing to babble a curt, "Do I look okay, to you?" before downing the rest of the scotch in the glass I was still holding.  _I'm going insane. I know I am_.

She let out a nervous chortle at my words, clearly relieved that I wasn't freaking out. At least, not out loud.

"What just happened?" I asked after my heartbeat had gone back to normal speed.

"I…" she hesitated, worried about my reaction. "I just teleported us to the Mayor's office."

"Because that man threatened him?" I guessed, desperate to understand what was going on. Teleportation…  _Insane_.

She looked at me a tad confused, for a second, but then she articulated, "The Mayor's a woman."

Oh. Well, that was completely irrelevant. She continued, "She should be safe, right now."

"So, you can do magic, huh?" I asked, trying to appear confident, but my voice gained a few octaves as I pronounced…  _that_  word. "That's, uh… real?"

She nodded.

"What did you just do to the door?"

"It's called a Protection Spell. I enchanted it with Blood Magic, so that my parents and Henry can get inside here too, if they need to, but you should be safe from Gold."

Despite the shock that made it hard for me to reason, and the fact that my mind was mainly focusing on keeping my breathing regular, I managed to process her words, which left me in a spiraling vortex of 'startled' and 'panicking'.

"Why wouldn't I be safe from that man? I thought we were protecting the Mayor?"

She looked at me and, somehow, I already knew what she was about to say.

"You  _are_  the Mayor, Regina."

I looked at Emma without really seeing her, and then I put my head in my hands and took a few short breaths to keep myself from hyperventilating.

"The more time I spend with you, the more certain I am that I'm completely out of my head," I said, eventually managing to regain control. "So, if you have an explanation to all of this nonsense, I would very much like you to elaborate."

Looking both concerned and guilty, she sat on the floor, right in front of me, crossed her legs and started talking.

"All of the people in this town, including me and you, come from another world," she said slowly, evaluating my reactions as she went on, "called the Enchanted Forest. All of our lives, our past, our adventures, in this world are known as fairytales, making us 'fictional' characters. Years ago, you moved us all from the Enchanted Forest to this world.

"You might have noticed some odd things about this town – or even about yourself. For example, the fact that you don't remember anything specific about your past, that some things look oddly familiar to you, or that my parents look pretty much as young as me."

I mused over her words and, for the first time, I realized she was right: I couldn't recall my past, only the most recent events.

"Why don't I remember a thing?"

"You have been through a lot of really, really painful things in your life. A few months ago, you saw your happy ending slip away for the umpteenth time, when the man you loved, Robin Hood, died… so you decided to cast a curse on yourself, which erased your memories of the Enchanted Forest and of Storybrooke and gave you a fake life in New York, where you could be free from the pain – hell, even from the burden that our lives are. Or, at least, we think that's the reason why you did it."

"Wait, I have magic too, then? And why didn't you just… I don't know, take away the curse or something?"

"Oh, you have magic alright," she replied, a smile of admiration and respect barely touching her lips. "The problem is, there is but one thing that can break the curse: True Love's kiss."

I looked at her while arching an eyebrow, momentarily forgetting the shock.

"True Love's kiss? Seriously?" I mocked her.

"Hey, don't make fun of it! True Love is the most powerful magic of all."

I was still quite skeptical, but seeing her so passionate about the topic, I decided to indulge her.

"The problem is that, despite there being many people who do love you and care about you, none of them can give you True Love's kiss, because  _you_  don't love them – you don't even remember them."

I nodded, hinting her that I was with her.

"So, it wasn't a coincidence that I found your mother's request to furnish her apartment, was it?"

She shook her head.

"My mother's apartment was completely fine – Zelena, your sister, made all of the furniture disappear..."

"My  _what_?" I was incredulous to say the least. "Actually, never mind. It's unquestionably not the strangest thing I've heard tonight. But then, you wanted me to come back, didn't you? You placed the file in my office."

"Actually, we didn't do anything. That wasn't us, and we don't know who did it, yet; we have a few ideas, but that's it."

We spent a few minutes in silence, while I processed the information and she patiently waited for my next question.

"The story you told me last night," I began, voicing my theory, "was about me and you, wasn't it? I was… I  _am_ … the Queen, and you're the Savior."

She nodded, confirming my assumption. Unbelievably, crazily, inexplicably,  _it made sense_.

"So that's why your parents are so young," I questioned again, putting two and two together. "They were under that curse the Que-  _I_ put on this city. You said time stood still during that period."

"Yeah. Nobody in this town got old, during the twenty-eight years that spell was active. Well, except for Henry, but he was never hit by the curse in the first place."

"Oh, that's right – your son. He got here only after I had cast it, because you gave birth to him in Phoenix; then…"

I froze. I started feeling cold, as if the temperature had abruptly dropped; I even got a little bit dizzy, as one clear thought lingered in my mind.

"…Then you adopted him," she murmured, her voice soft, her eyes sad and caring.

_I had a son_.

I had a son and I didn't remember him.

A memory flashed right in front of my eyes: a few days prior, as I entered the diner and the fourteen-year-old whom I had believed to only be Emma's son let out a grieved, 'Mom.' At the time, I thought he wasn't actually looking at me; I thought it was my mind playing tricks. But he was, he was hurting because I was there and I didn't recognize him.

My eyes glazed over as a hand shot up to cover the sob escaping my mouth.

Emma immediately stood, grabbing a packet of tissues from one of the desk drawers and then hurried back to me. She kneeled down right in front of me, taking my hands and gently stroking them as a soothing gesture.

"Thank you," I managed to choke out, accepting the tissue she was handing me.

"He's okay, you know?" she reassured me. "He misses you a lot, but he's a strong kid. He knows that the greatest thing to do, during these painful situations, is to not lose hope. He believes in you – in  _us_ , probably even more than we believe in ourselves. He knows we can fix this, and I have no intention of failing him."

I nodded, proud to have grown such a brave young man.

"May I see him, tomorrow?" I requested. I needed him to know that I was going to do whatever it took to get his mother back.

"Of course," Emma consented, and my heart calmed down a bit.

I wiped away the tears that had inevitably fallen and went on with my third degree.

"You said we're all fairytale characters," I stated.

She nodded her confirmation.

"Anyone I might have heard of?"

She snorted at my question.

"Oh, yes," she replied bitterly. "Your sister is the Wicked Witch of the West; I'm the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming."

I gaped in surprise, staggered by her true identity.

"Wait, but that makes me…  _the Evil Queen_?!" I exclaimed, loudly, connecting all the dots. I wasn't sure how to feel about that. "Did I actually turn into an old hag to give your mother the poisoned apple?"

Emma chuckled, and I felt the tension lighten, a much more cheerful atmosphere now surrounding us.

"No, you didn't," she said still giggling. It was… adorable. "I mean, you did give her a poisoned apple, but you looked like yourself. You just, you know, threatened to kill my father if she didn't eat it and stuff…"

"Gods, I must've been so resentful," I laughed. "You know, I still don't exactly like your mother. She's so kind… too nice for my taste."

"Yeah, well, not much has changed, then."

She went on telling me about Mr. Gold and how his real identity was Rumpelstiltskin; she explained his belonging to their –  _our_  – family too, as Henry's grandfather; she told me of his son, and of our adventures in Neverland, the Enchanted Forest, Oz, Camelot, the Underworld; she narrated how I had changed, through time, and all of the loved ones we had found and those we had lost.

It was a long tale – one that had me realizing how incredibly confusing our family tree must have been. It almost seemed impossible that I managed to forget it all. And yet, I had no doubt that what she was saying was the truth: it was the first and only thing that gave an actual meaning to my world; it was another piece to add to the puzzle of my life, and now the picture was finally starting to come together.

It was the middle of the night, when she finally finished her narration; a look outside the window, to the town's clock tower, informed me that it was almost two in the morning.

"We should probably hit the sheets," she said, catching my gaze, "it's been a long day."

I looked around, thinking of a way for the both of us to be able to sleep: there was only one couch, so one of us would have to settle for the floor.

Except for the fact that I forgot magic was now a thing, so she could easily materialize a bed in the room – which she did, including extra pillows and nightwear.

"I could get used to this," I muttered as I got changed.

We crawled under the sheets, both tired and emotionally drained.

"We haven't opened that package," I said at some point, remembering the reason why all this had started in the first place.

"I think we've had enough revelations for today," she replied, and I couldn't agree more. "We'll think about it tomorrow."

"Goodnight, Emma," I bid her, from my side of the bed.

"'Night, Gina."

I couldn't help but smile at the nickname.


	9. Emma - Confused

An unfamiliar beam of sunlight hit my face, bothering me despite my eyes being closed, and inevitably waking me up. I was feeling particularly comfortable that morning: the bed somehow seemed warmer than usual, and the pillow was softer; if it hadn't been for the light piercing through my lids, I wouldn't have woken up for a long while yet.

When I started regaining a bit of rationality, I realized I wasn't laying on a bed, because you can't  _hug_  beds. I carefully opened my eyes, rotating my face so that the sun wouldn't blind me, and was greeted by none other than a  _breast_.

Turns out that especially comfortable pillow was Regina's other breast, and the warm bed was her body. I was laying on my stomach, my head on her chest, an arm wrapped around her waist and our legs intertwined. Not that I was complaining about that position, but I was pretty sure it wasn't exactly… consensual.

_How am I going to get out of here?_ , I thought to myself, trying to find the best way to get up without waking her.

I glanced at my watch, acknowledging the time: it was ten o' clock. Definitely time to get out of bed.

As carefully as possible, I got up and dressed, enjoying the scent that Regina's clothes emanated. I left a note on the bed, just in case she woke up while I was gone, and headed straight to Granny's to get some breakfast-to-go for the both of us.

Of course my family was there, so while I waited for the bagels and the drinks to be ready, I explained them what had happened the previous night, and Regina's temporary isolation at Town Hall. I told them that she wanted to see Henry as well, so that they could pass on the message to him when he'd get home from school.

"How did she take it?" my mom asked, thoughtful as always. Her hand was on her chest, fidgeting nervously with the pendant of her necklace – a beautiful red stone I had never seen before.

"It wasn't easy," I revealed, honest, "but eventually she accepted it. She's going to do her best to remember, that's for sure."

And after a bit of catching up on the past few hours and tickling mercilessly my brother's tummy, I grabbed the food and headed back to Regina's office.

I found her completely dressed and sitting at her desk, checking out some papers. It almost seemed as if everything had gone back to normal, and my heart jumped at the thought.

"I got you some breakfast," I told her, placing it on the desk. "What's that?"

She waited a second before replying. "I was kind of… doubtful. I thought what you told me last night might have been a dream, or the result of a little too much alcohol, so I looked around to see if there was anything that could 'prove' what you said was real," she explained, "and I saw this picture." She turned a framed photo of her and a really young Henry around to show me. "Then I found these files, all of which have my name on them, and I realized it was, in fact, all true."

"And how are you feeling?" I asked, worried.

"Honestly? Kind of angry," she replied, and I froze. Angry? Why? "You had absolutely no right to turn my life completely upside down, but you did it anyway and now I'm stuck in this fairytale world with a messed up life I didn't ask for!"

I was flabbergasted.

"Well, I'm sorry I didn't consider the fact that living a lie, to you, might have been better than knowing who you actually are!"

"See, that's exactly the point, Miss Swan: I  _don't_ know who I actually am!" she shouted in exasperation, and stood up, circling her desk to face me. "I'm stuck halfway through fiction and reality: I only consciously know the truth, I still don't recall any of it! And it's all because of you!"

"I wasn't the one who cast that curse on you,  _you_  were!" I was screaming too, now. "I know what I have done might have been selfish, because now you can't go back to your normal, fake life and you're stuck here with me, and you have no choice but to find a way to remember, but I've spent three months without you already, and I wasn't going to let you get away again!"

I didn't know where that came from. I didn't know when she'd gotten closer to me, or how the tension between us had suddenly changed, or how I was now looking at her mouth, with a strong desire to bite the small scar on her upper lip. I didn't know and I didn't care, because now she was kissing me and it felt like magic, and after three months of complete nonsense, something was finally starting to seem right.

* * *

 

We were laying on the bed, our gazes fixed on the ceiling, both short of breath and… well, naked. I had just had sex with Regina –  _Regina-Fucking-Mills_  – and I really,  _really_  liked it. It had been so entirely different from anything I had ever experienced before: there was much more passion, a bit of anger and, unmistakably,  _magic_ … It had been exhilarating.

I had never been more scared in my entire life. I could feel all of my certainties start to crumble, and I quickly started repressing every single one of the feelings I had just experienced, too afraid to actually face them.

"That was a mistake," she said after a few minutes.

"Couldn't agree more," I replied. "You were upset, I was angry… It won't happen again."

"My sentiments exactly. Breakfast?"

"Yeah."

We got dressed – again – and ate our now cold food; I noticed it had rained, and the windows were now spotted with raindrops. During the whole time, we weren't even able to look at each other, and I realized we had probably done the most stupid thing in the world. I didn't want this to ruin a friendship that had taken so much effort to build.

I sent my bed back to my house (thankfully, by becoming the Dark One my control over magic and my abilities had significantly improved, although I was still no Regina) in order to delete every possible trace of what happened, and I was about to apologize for yelling at her when she foreran me.

"I'm sorry for taking it out on you," she said. "I know this was hard for you too."

"And I know this was a lot for you to take in."

"On second thoughts, I'm glad you told me," she continued. "At least now something's starting to make sense."

I nodded.

"Let's open that parcel now, shall we?"

She took it out of her suitcase and placed it on the coffee table, sitting on the couch and reading the info on the paper for the umpteenth time.

"You said you might have an idea as to who sent it," she reminded me.

"I thought it might have been Gold" I revealed, "but after what happened yesterday I'm sure it wasn't him."

I carefully looked at the light brown, plain paper wrapping, but there was nothing curious or uncommon about it; however, when I held my hand over it, as I had suspected, I felt power radiating from the package.

"There's magic inside here. You might want to stay back."

Of course, Regina didn't listen and stayed exactly where she was; I carefully removed the wrapping, revealing a wooden jewelry box about the size of a football. Several engravings decorated it on each side, but I didn't recognize any of the symbols: the only person I could think of that might have known their meaning was Gold, but I had no intention of asking him for a favor, especially considering that he wanted the box for himself in the first place. The object vaguely reminded me of Pandora's box, although this was about twice its size and had a small latch on the front.

I looked at Regina and she nodded, reassuring me, so I sprung the lock open and slowly revealed the content..

I didn't know what to expect, exactly: explosions, a wave of power, a blinding light; none of that happened, resulting in an extremely anti-climactic outcome.

Inside was a black velvet cushion, concave in each of the corners and in the middle, clearly made to be holding five small objects. All of the holes in it had different shapes, the only recognizable one being a heart in the center.

I didn't have enough time to be confused, nor to wonder why Gold would want it: before I could formulate any thought, I felt two powerful jolts of energy come from the other side of the room, making me instantly turn towards them.

They were similar to each other, yet not exactly alike: one of them was, somehow, warmer, and if I had to associate it with a color it would've been yellow, for sure. It made my heart flutter a little, as it summoned repressed feelings inside me – feelings I couldn't exactly redirect to any specific event, because they had been there for the longest time, waiting for me to find them. I couldn't put my finger on what those emotions were, exactly: they weren't comparable to anything I had ever felt before, and I could tell that that magic had only beckoned a small portion of them – that way I was able to sense them, but they were muted, much like a faded memory. They had a sweet, fruity scent to them.

The second beam of magic felt more familiar, more intimate – and, because of that, not nearly as appealing. It was a green certainty, something I knew already, lacking the mystery and attraction that were drawing me towards the other heap of power.

"Can you feel that too?" Regina asked me after a while, snapping me out of my fantasies and dragging me back to reality.

She was looking in the same direction as I was, unable to use her magic but still sensible to it. I hummed a response, and just like two moths attracted to a light we scurried across the room, following the trail of power to where it was strongest. One of the wells of energy – the plain, green one – emanated from Regina's handbag, and I wondered bluntly why she would ever go to that one instead of the yellow one, located somewhere near my suitcase.

As she hastily rummaged in her purse I opened the zipper of my baggage; at first I thought it was my beloved red leather jacket that was radiating magic, but then I realized it was coming out of its pocket.

I pulled out that small crystal crown that I had found the day before, appalled to say the least, as I revealed the source of power. I looked over to Regina's and she was holding a swan in her hands, just as small as my own crystal, and my initial excitement quickly turned into concern.

I hurried to the jewelry box, Regina hot on my heels, and we both knew what to do. I gently pushed her back, not wanting her to stay defenseless so close to such strong power, and carefully placed the little crown right on top of the bottom-right hollow, where it perfectly fit. It shone a dull, yellow-ish light, before turning completely transparent, its magic fading away at last.

Positive that the magic wasn't a menace, I let Regina do the same with her swan, watching as it slowly lost its green tint and deadened its power.

Concerned, I looked at Regina: she was a bit pale, probably disturbed by the influence magic had just imposed onto her, but overall she seemed fine.

"That swan," I said, after closing the box, "where did you get it?"

"It was on my desk, the day we met for the first time," she replied, later adding, with a small roll of her eyes, "for the  _second_  first time."

"And I assume it just appeared out of nowhere, right?"

She nodded.

"Same thing that happened to me. That crown was at Neal's apartment, I just randomly saw it on a shelf."

"Neal's apartment?" she asked, initially confused. " _That's_  where you were planning on staying? At your ex-boyfriend's flat?!"

Her tone of accusation took me aback. Was she… jealous?

"That was the idea, yes," I replied slowly, unable to hide my amusement.

"What?" she snapped, as she saw my teasing smile.

I shrugged, muttering a, "Nothing," as I turned away and placed the jewelry box onto the desk.

"What do you think the other crystals could be?"

I pondered on her question. It might have been a coincidence that those first two objects' shapes could easily symbolize Regina and I, but I knew it wasn't. I had spent too much time dealing with 'fate' to believe that something like mere chance could exist.

"I suppose they will be something that relates to our lives," I replied, unable to give her any more specific information. "Maybe an apple and a bug – anything that could represent our personality…"

"How about a roll of parchment?" she suggested.

I gave her a skeptical look.

"I don't see why a scroll would have anything to do with us," I replied with a frown.

She then nodded to something behind my back, and onto the dining table in the office, right next to the inevitable bowl of shiny red apples, laid a tiny purple crystal. I stepped closer to it, and when I recognized what it was I smiled slightly, happy that my mistrust in coincidences wasn't wrong.

"This is much more than a simple roll of parchment," I said as I picked it up, so that we could both look at it closely. "This is the Dark Curse."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are soooo awesome! I love you all so much, your response to my work is incredibly sweet and supportive. Thank you. You make my day


	10. Regina - Learned

**CHAPTER 10 – Regina – Learned**

I hesitantly took the purple crystal from Emma's hands – and there it was again, that static electricity that constantly flowed between us. It had been there also as we...  _you know_ … and it had been intoxicating, to put it simply. Which was exactly the reason why I was never going to have sex with Emma Swan ever again.

Even just thinking about it made me shiver with such anticipation, such desire – I was already craving her touch, and it had only been half an hour since it all happened. I was turning back into a hormonal teenager, and I didn't like it – or, better yet,  _I liked it too much_. I was supposed to be a queen, for crying out loud! You'd think I'd be able to control my body, but no, let's have inappropriate fantasies and ladyboners like a damn fifteen-year-old!

Desperate to suppress those thoughts, I opened the jewelry box, curious as to what that particular crystal would make me feel. The green swan had been so, incredibly strong… it was a primordial need, an urge that had a sprinkle of frustrating fondness and an aftertaste of cinnamon.

It was different now, with the Dark Curse: it was agonizing and suffocating, and it aroused in me the deepest, most unmitigated sense of loneliness; but the worst part was that it felt familiar, and I understood what the 'old me' used to be like. All of a sudden I felt exposed, not wanting Emma to know what that side of me felt in her heart. I didn't know whether she was perceiving the same emotions or not, but by the look of concern and compassion on her face I could tell she wasn't very far off the truth.

"Don't," I said curtly. I scowled at her: I didn't need her pity.

"You know, you're not that different from me," she confessed, ignoring my words. "We used to understand each other – you've always been the only person in this town I could talk to and trust completely, because you were the only one who knew exactly what I was going through."

"Why are you telling me this?" I deadpanned.

"Because you can trust me too."

I diverted my gaze, a bit overwhelmed by her words, and relented. I placed the third crystal in the jewelry box, glad as the emotions it had aroused faded away.

A door slamming shut and some rustling from downstairs caught our attention; Emma put an arm in front of me, protectively, and I could see her golden-white magic starting to gather right on top of her palms, when the door to my office thrust open and her parents hurtled themselves into the room. My heart fluttered when I saw Henry was with them as well.

"Emma, Regina, are you okay?!" her father said, placing caringly a hand on my shoulder – much to my surprise – as her mother hugged her.

"Of course, why wouldn't we be?" she asked, her expression mirroring the bafflement on mine.

Miss Blanchard rose her brows in surprise. "Didn't you see the storm?"

"Storm?" I echoed. A quick glance at the windows proved that it had rained, but surely I would have noticed if a storm had hit town.

"At least that's what it looked like," Mr. Nolan concurred. "Thunders, lightning, a whole lot of wind…"

"… But only on top of Town Hall," Henry concluded.

"We didn't hear anything…" Emma said, looking at me for confirmation.

I nodded in agreement, approaching the window and moving the curtains to take a better look outside. The short hedges in the garden were completely disheveled, and mud and dirt covered the once immaculate lawn.

"Well, there has definitely been a storm," I conceded, "but how is that possible? When did this happen?"

"Around half past ten," Henry replied. Then, hesitantly, added, "Were you doing something…  _strange_ , at that time?"

"It's alright, kid, I told her everything. You can talk about magic," Emma reassured him.

I mentally went back over what we had done that morning; I had finished getting ready at about quarter past ten, then Emma brought me breakfast and…

_Oh._

I shot Emma an appalled look, and realization spread through her features as she arrived to the same conclusion. I could tell she was thinking fast of an excuse, so I helped her.

"We found this," I said, grasping the jewelry box from the table and showing it to her parents, "it's magical, so that must have been the cause."

"But why didn't you hear anything?" her mother was still confused and, I sensed, a bit suspicious too. Her lingering gaze on the box wasn't lost on me, but I didn't address the peculiar behavior.

"Must've been the box. You know, magic is weird…" Emma intervened.

Fortunately, Mr. Nolan opened it, gaining his wife's attention as well as Henry's, so I was able to approach Emma and take her to one side.

"How the hell did we cause a thunderstorm by having sex?!" I hissed, baffled and incredulous, careful that neither her parents nor Henry would hear us.

"I guess it was our magic," she replied, just as disoriented as me. "We must have… I don't know, lost control over it or something…"

"Well, that's not alarming at all."

At least now I had yet another reason not to have sex with her again.

"It won't happen again, anyway," she said, perfectly reflecting my thoughts, as an attempt to comfort me.

"Undoubtedly," I replied, hemming right after and redirecting my attention back to the others.

As I looked at Emma's parents, I fleetingly wondered how old they were. Then I looked at Henry, and I decided a little chat with my son was the right thing to do. I approached him.

"May I speak with you for a minute?"

The Charmings – the thought of that being a real name made me want to laugh for a second – politely moved to the couch to give us some privacy, still studying the artifact we had found, Emma telling them about the crystals. I started wringing my hands, feeling suddenly nervous. I didn't know where to start.

"I know how hard this situation must be, for you," I told him, looking at him in the eye, completely sincere, "and I know you have already gone through a lot of problems just like this one, but I wanted to tell you that I'm going to do  _anything_  that's in my power, that I'll try my very best, to get my memories back. I don't want you to lose a mother – I won't let that happen."

Henry's eyes filled with pain, but I thought I caught a glimpse of pride and respect as well.

"I know you'll figure this out," he said passionately, and I couldn't help but hug him. "You always do."

I may not recall him, but I definitely did feel some kind of affection for that young man. My love towards him used to be too strong for that curse to suppress it completely, and I could feel the ghost of it, still.

Unshed tears began to blur my vision, forcing me to look up as an attempt to make them go away. I broke away from the hug and smiled ruefully, more resolute than ever on getting my old life back. Likely, it was going to be painful: the old me certainly had her reasons to do what she – what  _I_  did, but it definitely wasn't worth losing a child.

Then, the craziest, most insane idea made its way into my mind, igniting the spark of hope that, eventually, led me to sharing the realization I had just had.

"Emma?" I called before I could change my mind.

She looked up, curious as to what I was going to say next.

"Will you teach me how to use magic?"

* * *

We were walking – or hiking, rather – in the woods that surrounded Storybrooke. Spending every second cursing those damn high heels that were killing my feet, creating a new blister every step I took, I was following Emma to the place she thought most appropriate to teach me how to pull a white bunny out of a top hat.

"Couldn't we just do this at the office?" I asked her, frustrated, after ten minutes of killing bugs and moving leafy branches and twigs out of the way. "If I happened to break anything you could just…  _magic it back_  as it was, right?"

"Nope," she simply replied, without interrupting her march. "You were the one who repaired things, not me. I made the mess, you sighed, rolled your eyes and fixed it."

I grunted in resignation and kept walking.

I was a bit concerned: Emma had said that Mr. Gold wasn't going to come for us and that I would be fine outside her protection spell, and I really hoped she was right.

"Here we are!" she said, abruptly stopping and causing me to crash into her.

"Ouch." I looked past her and right in front of us was a precipice, the remains of an old bridge curiously clumped to our side.

_What on Earth is she planning to do?_

"This is the place where you taught me how to  _swim_ ," she said loudly, trying to overcome the whistle of the wind. "You teleported me on a bridge and then tore it apart, because my magic was completely instigated by my instincts, and risking my life would definitely trigger it."

"Well, on second thoughts, I don't think I want to learn magic so bad," I replied, starting to feel very concerned. "Isn't there a safer way? Let's try by, I don't know, lighting a candle, for instance."

"Don't worry," she replied, an amused smile curving her lips, "I'm not here to try and kill you. I thought this might have been a good place to start, maybe you might remember something in the meantime. Besides, we don't have to worry about damaging public property or injuring the Merry Men…"

"Right, because they exist too," I murmured to myself, still yet to completely adjust to this new reality. "Then, what do you want me to do?"

She took a few steps towards the edge of the cliff and turned back towards me.

"You once told me magic was all about emotions. You didn't have to  _think_ , you had to  _do_  – and I need you to remember that.

"So, we're going to take this one step at a time and start with something easy: I want you to summon your necklace," and as she said that, the small pendant I kept around my neck appeared in her palm, surrounded by a white mist, "back into your hand."

I stiffened. She was holding it dangerously close to the drop of the cliff, and that necklace was very important to me – for some reason that, of course, I didn't recall.

"So I just… think about having it in my hand?" I asked, hesitant.

"Well, pretty much… but you have to feel it. Free your mind and calm down; close your eyes, if you think it might help. And then…  _do it_."

I followed her instructions, trying not to think of anything other than my necklace. I opened the palm of my hand, but regardless of how hard I tried to imagine it between my fingers, nothing was happening.

Emma was studying me with a critical look, serious and completely rapt in her role as teacher.

I looked back at her hand, and I saw she was holding the ring with only two of her fingers, now. It was about to fall down, and that motivated me to put even more effort into my attempts – and, surely, she knew that.

I was holding my breath in concentration, trying to move the pendant before she dropped it – when I finally felt it: my magic. It wasn't much different from the feeling you get when you're falling: a void right behind your stomach. It was directly linked to the necklace, and right when Emma let it slip from her grip, I felt my palm tingle, and there it was, appearing in a cloud of dark red smoke.

I smirked, smug, and raised a brow as I looked at Emma, waiting for her to praise me.

"Too slow," she scolded instead, and the bit of confidence that I had just earned completely disappeared, along with my smile. "You're gonna have to be much quicker than that, especially during a battle."

I glared at her as I handed the necklace back; I wasn't actually angry, but I could use a bit more support.

"Keep it," she said, and I put the pendant back around my neck. "We'll have to try something more motivating."

That being said, she took a deep breath, looked at me and smirked, teasingly, although I could see the concern behind her nonchalant façade.

"Save me," she said, and with her arms spread out, she dove backwards, off the cliff.

Surprise, disbelief and utter, agonizing panic took over me. I didn't run to the edge to see if she was alright, I didn't scream for her name; it hadn't been any longer than a second, before I summoned her back beside me.

It didn't occur to me that she wasn't in any actual danger, since she could just teleport herself to safety; my rationality had completely disappeared, just like my ability to breathe.

Now she was standing there, without even a scratch, satisfied with her job, laughing at the horror displayed on my face.

"See? It worked!"

I looked at her. I couldn't believe what she had just said. My fright was quickly being replaced by fury, and I was about to vent, when she raised a hand to stop me, apparently pleased.

" _What?!_ " I snapped.

She nodded towards my hand, and a ball of freaking  _fire_  was floating right on top of my palm.

I jumped and yelped in surprise, instinctively shaking my hand to get it off of me, regardless of the fact that I wasn't feeling any pain, but with that movement I accidentally ended up shooting it at a nearby elm and setting it on fire.

_Oops_.

As an awkward attempt to somehow put out the blaze, I swung my hand, but it seemed to only worsen the situation.

"Emma? I need help" I murmured. She hadn't done anything yet, and the fire was starting to expand.

"I told you," she replied, her voice a little panicky, "you were the one who sorted everything out when I messed up!"

"And you didn't think that  _I_ could be the one messing up, today?!"

"I might not have thought this through," she conceded, as I backed up to where she was to distance myself from the growing flames. "Alright, Gina. Focus."

I looked at her in shock. What were we going to do?! But then I saw her resolute expression, a fire of determination burning behind her eyes, mirroring the one right in front of us, and I felt… safe. I knew we were going to fix this.

Something in my stomach moved, as I felt her grab my hand. It was probably the effect of our magic combined.

I saw Emma raise a hand out of the corner of my eye, and I mimicked her action, unsure of what to do but determined nonetheless. I took a deep breath as I felt the increasingly more familiar grip right behind my stomach, and then a bright flash of red energy shot out of my hand, complementary to Emma's white one. They solidified, forming a dome over the few burning trees, impeding oxygen to get through. After a couple of seconds the blaze died out, and we dropped our arms to our side.

"Well, that was… intense," Emma breathed out, panting just like me.

I scowled at her and started making my way out of the forest.

"Hey!" she exclaimed as she saw me take off. I didn't turn around when she called my name. "Regina! Wait up!"

She ran to keep my pace, but I wasn't planning on slowing down any time soon, pained feet or not. A frustrated sigh later I was back at the mansion (not the office; a detail I did register but didn't question), surrounded by that white smoke of hers, and I knew I couldn't keep ignoring her for much longer.

Putting my hands on my hips, I turned around, infuriated to say the least.

I kept staring, waiting for her to talk. She had a few leaves stuck in her blonde curls, and sweat had stuck some hair to her forehead. Mentally grunting, I wondered how she managed to look so pretty even after a hike, a fall off a cliff, and a magical mishap.

I was still angry, though.

"I'm sorry," she said sheepishly, rolling her eyes. "I should have known better."

I didn't relent at her apologies, nor did I reply. I simply turned around and headed upstairs, in desperate need to wash my frustration away.

"Where are you going?" she questioned.

"To take a shower, unless you're planning on having another one of your brilliant magic lessons," I replied sarcastically, glaring at her.

She simply smiled, raising an eyebrow.

"What?"

She shrugged. "You remember where the toilet is."

* * *

Half an hour later I was drying my hair with a soft towel, slightly baffled after seeing the shampoo in this house was the same I used back in New York, but I imagined it made sense. I was still the same person, although didn't remember most of my life.

As I got out of the bathroom, a bit more calm but still frowning, I was pleased to see Emma had brought back my baggage and my handbag, which I had left back at Town Hall. I slipped into some comfortable clothes and joined her downstairs, where she was sitting on the rug, nice and snug in front of the fireplace, watching TV. I noticed her hair was wet as well, and she had changed into her nightwear.

"Thank you for bringing back my stuff," I grumbled, still annoyed but actually grateful.

She beamed at me, happy to have at least partially redeemed herself. "I ordered some food," she added, pointing to a brown bag onto the coffee table. "I got you a chicken salad, since you're a healthy weirdo who doesn't do greasy food. I hope that's alright."

I nodded, grabbing the plastic container and fork and curling up on the couch, right behind Emma. She unconsciously leaned into me when she felt my legs against her back. I had to fight the urge to run my fingers through her hair and massage her head. What the hell was wrong with me these days?!

"Why are we here?"

Emma shrugged. "I figured it would be more comfortable than the office. I checked, and Gold isn't here anymore. I enchanted the house with Blood Magic again, just for good measure, but you will be safe here."

We fell into a comfortable silence, during which I clearly felt my annoyance at her start to fade away.

"I can't wait to finally go to bed," she muffled after a while, her mouth full of fries. This woman didn't have the slightest bit of grace, when it came to food, I'm telling you. "I don't know about you, but I'm exhausted, and my feet are starting to ache. I don't even want to imagine how much  _yours_ hurt, wearing those death traps that you call shoes…"

She went on rambling for a while, and I kept listening. It was nice; her voice was soothing, and she definitely liked to talk, which meant I didn't have to. She moved on the couch when she had finished her food, snuggling up next to me, and I rested my head on her shoulder. It was a matter of minutes before I fell asleep, her voice ushering me into a dreamless sleep, cradled by the comforting tingle of her magic.


	11. Emma - Introduced

_I was running in a forest, nothing but trees and green surrounding me. I was completely out of breath, my burning lungs desperately seeking air, my spleen a piercing pain in my side, but I couldn't allow myself to stop._

_I thought I saw a few familiar faces, hidden between bushes and branches: Lily, Neal, my parents, Hook. They were there for a second, but they disappeared as soon as I recognized them. I couldn't turn around and see if they were still there; I had to keep running._

_And then, after the excruciating eternity that I ran, a bright light shone at the end of the forest, and I sprinted towards it as if my life depended on it – and it really did. I threw myself into the light, screaming at the top of my lungs the name of the person I was so recklessly trying to reach._

_But I was too late._

* * *

It was still pitch black outside when I woke up, and the fireplace was dying out; it took a while for my eyes to get used to the darkness, and it took even longer for my heart to stop racing.

The nightmare I'd just had shook me, leaving me petrified and drained, both physically and emotionally. I didn't even notice my back was sore until someone moved, right next to me.

"You had a nightmare," a sleepy voice said, and the sole sound helped me calm down.

I didn't reply, tightening my grip around Regina's waist, ignoring my aching back, and relishing her sent of shampoo and sleep.

_She's fine_ , I kept repeating to myself,  _she's here_.

She moved until her eyes were at the same level as mine, a worried look crossing her half-awake – but still insanely beautiful – face.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked me, rubbing my back in a soothing motion, and I immediately started to relax.

I shook my head, only to immediately regret the movement. A stab of pain shoot from my neck all across my backside, and I couldn't help but groan in discomfort.

"Let's go to bed," she whispered, starting to get up.

I practically coiled up around her to keep her from moving. My heart resumed his frantic rhythm, and fear took over me.

"I'm not leaving," she reassured me, gently stroking my cheek, "but you're in pain, and we need to get to the bedroom."

Without a second thought I teleported us into Regina's room, earning an amused eye-roll. Struggling to stay as close as possible, we slid under the covers and tried to find a comfortable position, Regina's concern for my well-being making something flutter around my stomach area.

We settled for something much more comfortable than earlier, but just as intimate: my head was on her chest, and her arms were still hooked onto my back, her fingers softly running onto the slice of bare skin on my lower back. I was getting used to the magical reaction that sparkled whenever we touched, but I still shivered at the pleasant feeling.

I fell back into a deep sleep, the regular thumping of her heart a sweet reminder that she was still with me.

* * *

"Please, tell me you're not planning on having other life-threatening activities, today," Regina commented as I sat down on an island stool, a plate full of waffles already in front of me.

"Well, you do need to practice your magic," I replied, swallowing a mouthful of delicious food, "but I think we could just relax today, maybe I can show you around town."

An overly-dramatic sigh of relief informed me of her approval, and a half hour later we were on the walkway, admiring in awe the ice that had formed overnight onto the neat hedges, as we walked out of the property. Sometimes the world managed to be so deceptively beautiful.

We strolled in a comfortable silence, both lost in our thoughts, enjoying the brisk temperature of a December morning. I lowered the hood of my winter coat, tilting my head forward so that most of my face was sheltered by my scarf, and hid my hands in my warm pockets.

I was never one to appreciate cold weather, preferring sun and heat to overcast skies and icy roads; but there was something about winter in Storybrooke that made me feel warmer than ever. This thought made me realize how much I was missing my parents and Henry: over the last few years, our relationship had become almost obsessive, spending as much time together as we could to make up for the twenty-eight years (ten, in Henry's case) we spent apart; but ever since Regina had come back I had started hovering over her, unconsciously balancing out the few months she was away, and I didn't want the rest of my family to feel neglected or left out. Besides, hell knows how much I was missing Henry!

As if they were aware of what I was thinking, my phone started ringing, signaling an incoming call by none other than daddy dearest.

"Deputy Nolan, to what do I owe the honor?" I teased, unintentionally reminding myself of Regina.

"Hello to you too," he replied, and by his voice I could tell he was smiling. "Honey, I know you've been busy and all, these past few days, but… don't you think it might be time for you to come back to work?"

"Oh, would you look at that?" I said, sarcastic. "Someone's fed up with all the paperwork!"

As we reached the end of Mifflin street I gestured Regina to turn right, so that we would have to cross the park to arrive downtown. It was ten in the morning, so the children that usually occupied the playground were at school: we had the place all to ourselves, and it was a sight.

"I'm not!" he said, feigning hurt. "But now that your mother has to replace Regina as Mayor and I am here all by myself, Neal has spent the last few days either at Belle's or at the Convent… I just don't want him to feel like we don't care about him, that's all."

I rolled my eyes at dad's over-protective instincts, but, after an epiphanic moment, I came up with an idea.

"What if Regina and I look after him, for a few days?" I asked, glancing over at Regina, who was looking curiously at me. "I'm sure she won't mind, and since I can't come back to work and leave her alone, Neal can stay with us."

"I guess that would work," he replied, clearly relieved. "Alright, then. I'll see you soon?"

"Yeah, let's all have dinner together tonight. We'll be at the loft by eight, we'll bring Henry."

"I'll tell your mother, then. Bye, kid."

We hung up, and it felt as if a weight had been lifted from my chest.

As Regina and I walked through the park, I told her about the change of plans, and I could tell she was trying to stifle her excitement for taking care of my brother.  _Man, she's such a mom!_

We got to the library about ten minutes later. As she heard the front door close, Belle popped out from behind the shelves holding a book with one hand and my baby brother with the other.

"Hi, Emma! Regina!" she cheerfully greeted us. Judging by her behavior, I assumed my mother already told her about Regina knowing about our world.

"Hey, Belle," I replied with a smile. "And hello, young man!"

My voice automatically turned into a high-pitched, obnoxious singsong, as I grabbed my brother and rocked him for a while.

"Belle?" Regina asked, curious. "As in…"

"… 'Beauty and the Beast', yes," Belle finished, rolling her eyes and smiling kindly. "I thought by now our dear Sheriff would've told you about all of our alter-egos."

"Well, we didn't exactly have time; we had to hide for a while, since your dear husband very politely threatened us," I said, and her expression turned into a severe mask of feigned indifference.

" _Ex_ -husband," she corrected me, and I watched as she tried to suppress the pain, feeling slightly guilty.

I saw a flash of surprise cross Regina's face, but she had the good sense not to question Belle's love life any further.

"We came by to pick Neal up," she said instead.

"And I wanted to ask you if you had found anything useful for our little issue over here," I nodded towards Regina, hinting at her memory loss, "but I assume you would've told me, by now."

"I'm still researching," she replied with an apologetic look, lifting the book she was holding eloquently, "but I'm afraid there's only one way to get rid of a curse, and we both know what that is."

I nodded, resigned, and we said our goodbyes before walking back outside.

"So, that man… Rumpelstiltskin… He's also the 'Beast'?" she questioned, gently grabbing my brother and holding him close to protect him from the harsh weather.

"Yup. And he's also the 'Crocodile' from Peter Pan's story. And the son of Peter Pan himself…"

"Okay, okay, never mind. I would never remember all of these counterparts, anyway."

"He's also the one who originally taught you how to use magic, you know?" I continued. "Back in the Enchanted Forest, you were kind of… I don't know, friends? Allies? Hopefully nothing more than that?"

She stared at me, her mouth dropping open.

"What made him become so… sketchy?" she asked me, her face twisted in a grimace.

I smiled ruefully, gazing at the pawnshop as we walked past it. Flashbacks from my own Dark One period forcefully came to mind.

"Pain."

The rest of the morning turned out to be fairly uneventful; we made a stop at Granny's, just to keep baby Neal warm, at least for a bit.

"Try and guess who they are," I told Regina, as I looked at Ruby and Granny.

She seemed to pick up on Ruby's red pieces of clothing, and it didn't take long for her to put two and two together.

"Not-so-Little Red Riding Hood and her grandmother?" she guessed. "Hadn't they been eaten by the Big Bad Wolf?"

"Actually," said Ruby loudly, so that we could hear her from the other side of the diner, "we  _are_  the Big Bad Wolf."

She sneered, amused by Regina's surprised expression: surely she didn't expect Ruby to have werewolf superpowers that would let her hear what she had just said. She made sure to talk really quietly as she mused, "That explains the dog hair…"

I looked at her deadpan for a second, processing her words, only to burst out into a cathartic laughter right after, followed suit by Regina. It quite amazed me how much I had missed the carefreeness in her bright grin as she did so: it was extremely rare, before she cursed herself, and I had learned to cherish those sporadic moments of light-heartedness, always trying my best to bring about more. But then she left, and I spent over two months without her smile to light up my days.

A conversation we had a couple of days prior popped up into my mind: she told me she didn't smile often; now, seeing her relatively happy warmed my heart.

My goofy smile wasn't lost on her, so I quickly erased it from my expression and brought up some random topic of conversation to avoid her questioning it.

It was nice to just sit there and talk about everything and nothing, cooing Neal every now and again: it had been way too long since the last time something so ordinary had happened. But, of course, nice things always come to an end, and before we could entirely appreciate the situation, it was time for us to go.

As I turned around to say goodbye to Ruby and Granny, I had a brainwave.

"Rubes?" I called her, catching her curiosity. "My father's been having some trouble at the station, taking care of everything by himself. Think you might be interested?"

"Of course!" She beamed. "I'll call him right away, we'll make sure my shifts won't overlap with my job here."

She had always liked her job as my assistant, and since my father wasn't exactly enthusiastic of handling everything on his own, this could be a great way to kill two birds with one stone.

Once Regina and I got back outside, she asked me what our next stop would be.

"I think there's one last person who wants to see you," I smirked, enjoying her confusion as we took a smaller street that led to the suburban area.

When we reached Zelena's place, she was leaning on the doorstep, waiting for us to join her. How she knew we were visiting, I couldn't imagine.

"Well, well, who do we have here?" she said, watching Regina rock gently baby Neal just like she was doing with Robin, fairly amused. "We may not look much alike, but right now anyone could tell we're sisters."

She stepped to the side, a silent invitation for us to enter the house.

Fortunately, Regina was already aware that her sister was currently raising her ex-boyfriend's baby: I couldn't even begin to imagine how awkward that encounter would've been, otherwise.

We made small talk for a while, Regina curious as to how her sister had grown up, questioning her about Oz and world-trespassing tornados. I noticed how genuinely polite Zelena was being, avoiding her usual sarcasm and snarky comments: her relationship with Regina had developed into a full-on alliance, before leaving for the Unerworld, Regina wanting to give her sister a second chance; but now, maybe because both Zelena and Regina had recently lost their significant others, or because Regina had been away, she was showing nothing but kindness towards her.

"So, did you make any progress on finding a cure for the memory issue?" she asked at some point.

I shook my head. "Belle is still researching, and we don't really know what else to do, at the moment. If True Love really is the only way to break the spell, then we can't do anything but wait – either for Regina to fall for someone, or for her to love Henry again. I thought about bringing Robin back to life, somehow, but Hades destroyed his soul, so that's not an option."

Zelena flinched as I mentioned her former boyfriend's name, but didn't comment on it; instead, she opened a hand and summoned an antique-looking, humongous book, its leather cover distressed and stained and the pages torn and yellow.

"I tried to take a look at this," she said, browsing through the old tome. "It's the first magic book I ever studied: everything I know about magic comes from here. It has a chapter dedicated to potions, and I found the recipe to the strongest love potion ever. Mind you, I'm not very confident with this – True Love can't be reproduced artificially – but if you want to try it out, here it is."

She handed over the book, and I quickly teleported it to Regina's place: I had no intention of carrying around something that looked heavier than a golden retriever.

"Thank you," I murmured, and after saying goodbye we went back home.


	12. Chapter 12

"I think I'm gonna throw up," I mumbled, leaning back in my chair with a satisfied sigh and massaging my stomach.

Regina made lunch, and  _jeez_ , if it wasn't the best ravioli I had ever eaten! I mean, of course I knew Regina could cook, but it had been such a long time since I last relished one of her dishes that I had completely forgotten just how delicious her cooking was. I had three portions of those ravioli and I felt like I was going to explode at any moment.

"Then get the hell out of my kitchen," she replied stern, but I could tell she was just teasing.

"And leave you alone to clean up all that stuff?" I said, referring to the amount of dirty bowls, dishes and utensils piled up inside the sink. "No way."

"Then get up and help me. I'll wash, you'll dry."

"Just give me a minute to recover…" I replied, short of breath. "You do realize you've just made me the happiest woman in the world, don't you?"

"Well, I try," she smirked, and I swear I saw the hint of a blush creep onto her cheeks, betraying her confident façade.

I beamed at her reaction, and with a heavy, tired huff I stood up and made my way to the sink, grabbing the cloth right beside it. I could barely keep my eyes open: all that food was making me sleepy.

As I dried the dishes she handed me, I fantasized about getting some sleep when we'd be done – however, of course, that was but a utopia. By the time we had finished tidying the counter up, in fact, it was almost four, hence we had to go pick Henry up from school.

"Come on, you can't be that tired!" she teased me, giving me a playful nudge. "You're such a drama queen."

I looked at her, disbelief plastered on my face, my mouth dropping instantly. "Says  _you_!" I let out a chortle.  _This woman!_

We hopped on the bug, and less than half an hour later I was, once again, pulling up in Miffling Street.

"… And then we heard a high-pitched, ear-splitting whistle coming from the speakers and grandma's voice echoed through the corridors and inside of all of the classrooms, and she started rambling about some ball she wants to throw next week. She was panting by the time she had stopped talking, but I don't think I've ever heard her so excited, before – and that's saying something!"

Henry was telling us about the unexpected announcement that had the whole school in turmoil, quivering with anticipation himself. He was so cute, getting this excited for a dance… I found myself wishing for him to never grow up; to stay this carefree, innocent and happy forever.

"And of course it's not just a school dance: the whole town's invited, and the ball will be at Town Hall," he continued, shaking me out of my thoughts.

My eyes flared in surprise as I processed the information.

"Oh, no," I muttered, shocked and slightly terrified. "My parents are gonna force me to go, just like last time. Oh, no, no, no."

"It can't be that bad?" Regina said, watching back and forth between me and Henry, slightly worried herself.

"It isn't," Henry reassured her, as we entered the mansion, "ma's just the biggest drama queen."

" _What_?! I'm so not a drama queen!" I exclaimed, offended. What was with these two?!

I followed Henry as he entered the kitchen, not willing to let go of his insinuation until I proved my point.

Regina chuckled, smug for being agreed with, and she leaned against the island with a teasing smile on her face.

"Anyway," Henry changed the subject almost immediately, "I'm going with Violet, of course. We're planning on getting matching outfits, you know, with my tie the same color as her dress and stuff."

He grabbed a box of juice from the fridge and brought it closer to his mouth; he was about to take a sip, when Regina stopped him.

"Don't drink straight from the carton," she scolded him lightly, her 'mom voice' that brooked no objections.

"This is so unfair!" he exclaimed, incredulous. "You don't remember who I am, but I still can't get away with stuff like this.  _Ugh_."

Of course he was only joking; his voice was light and the ghost of a grin played on his lips. Regardless, I felt Regina stiffen beside me, and I knew his words touched her more than he meant them to.

"I'm gonna go do my homework," he added then with a sigh, and after he poured himself a glass of juice he disappeared upstairs.

I was secretly glad he had left: now I could try and cheer up Regina, or at least wipe away the guilt I knew she was feeling.

"Don't," I ordered, bluntly.

She gave me a baffled look, pretending not to know what I was talking about.

"Don't work yourself up about it," I elaborated. "You know he didn't mean it like that."

She simply nodded, and I didn't drag the topic any further: I didn't want to force her into talking about something, when she clearly didn't want to.

"I just want to get all of this over with," she confessed, fiddling with her fingers as she looked down, suddenly disheartened. "I want to remember who I am; I want to stop hurting people."

"Regina…"

"You didn't think I noticed, did you?" she interrupted me, gazing up for a second, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. "All the nostalgic looks you give me when you think I'm not watching; the sadness that hovers behind your eyes when I remind you of the old me; the fake smiles you give me when you pretend to be fine. Maybe I don't have some inner lie-detector, dear, but I can tell you're not happy. And I'm tired of being the cause of that."

I couldn't believe her words. I didn't think she would be so observant, nor that my feelings would sadden her this much. A strong stab of guilt pierced my skin, making me feel horrible – to put it simply.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, not knowing what to say. "I should've been more careful, you weren't supposed to have this weight on you…"

"It's okay," she shrugged it off. "At least now I'm slightly more motivated to find a cure. How about we start from that book Zelena gave us?"

I shook my head, not wanting to let go of the topic just yet. She deserved an explanation.

"I want you to know that the fact that you don't remember who you are isn't exactly the problem," I said slowly, hoping that she would understand what I meant and not take it the wrong way. "You're still the same as before: you might not remember your past and all the pain that shaped you as a person, but you still act consequently: you're sarcastic, obnoxious, caring and extremely insecure, just like you've always been. At first I was worried this might not have been the case, but now I know it is.

"No, what makes me so upset is that you don't remember  _me_." I looked away: I wasn't used to being this open about my feelings, this vulnerable… but if it meant helping Regina, then I would do it a million times, without a doubt. "You have no idea of all the things we've gone through – and I'm not talking about killing flying monkeys or teaming up to defeat some bad guy. I'm talking about our relationship, and how it has evolved throughout the years. You like me, now, but you don't know how you've ended up being my friend. You don't remember who I used to be; you don't remember why I'm me, and I can barely stand the thought."

A pair of arms wrapped around my waist, and I sank into that hug, quickly returning it: each of us was comforting the other, sharing our strength and hoping it would be enough. The familiar tingle of our combined magic seemed to help.

I broke away from the embrace first, precariously on the verge of tears. I looked into her brown eyes, also particularly watery, and I did the only thing that could make us feel better: I kissed her, just slightly. A gentle peck that gave her the choice to return it or pull away. But she kissed me back, deepening the exchange, and before either of us could realize it wasn't a good idea, my bare back was laying on the cold surface of the island, most of our clothes forgotten on the kitchen floor, and I was completely lost.

* * *

My head was in the clouds during the whole trip to my parent's loft. I was so distracted that I even ran a red light a few times; thankfully, I wasn't planning on arresting myself any time soon.

Once again, I was obsessing over having had sex with Regina. I managed to only focus on what had just happened, though, keeping my thoughts away from whatever it might mean that it was the second time in two days that we did so, and that my heart was just about to burst out of my chest from both panic and full-on joy.

It had been utterly different than the first time: it wasn't fueled by anger nor resentment. It was despair, melancholy and need that filled the air; it was docile, sweet, and yet, it had been just as passionate and urgent as the previous day. To be honest, it was much more hushed, too – having Neal asleep in the next room and Henry doing his homework upstairs led to hands covering our mouths and stifled moans… Which probably made it even more exciting…  _But still!_  This wasn't going to happen again. Seriously.

The fact that Henry had spent the past ten minutes rambling non-stop about how there was a thick layer of fog surrounding exclusively the mansion, and how he hadn't been able to concentrate on his math problems because it was raining, but the slice of sky he saw from outside the window was blue, devoid of any cloud, surely didn't help.

Regina was just as lost in her thoughts as I was. She seemed to wake up from her daydream only when she heard the car door slam shut as Henry got off the bug.

"How are you feeling?" I asked, worried.

She shrugged. "Confused," she confessed, "but oddly better than earlier. Although I really don't want to think about the reason behind that."

_Same, Regina._

Knowing that she was feeling better relaxed me. We followed Henry inside the building without a word, gliding up the stairs and not bothering to knock on the door: it still was my place too, after all.

"Hi guys!" my mom greeted us beaming, quickly hugging us as we took our coats off. "How are you doing?"

I didn't reply to that, Henry's description of the curious weather enough to satisfy my mom's interest. Dad hugged us as well, listening intently to what Henry was saying. I noticed Regina was feeling uncomfortable, probably because, after all, my parents were but an acquaintance, to her.

I caught her attention, meaning to distract her from those thoughts. "So, is this how you were imagining it?" I asked with a smirk, referring to the décor of the apartment: Zelena had poofed all of the furniture back to its place as soon as Regina had left the flat.

"Yes, it is," she replied, a bit freaked out. "This is exactly what I was picturing in my mind when I saw your mother's file. It's… destabilizing."

"Eh, don't think about it; soon enough you'll get used to it," I shrugged the matter off. "Come on, I'll show you to my 'room'."

I ushered her upstairs, where my bedroom was; although now it didn't look as much like the place I usually slept in, as a post-apocalyptic battlefield.

The sheets on my bed had been torn apart and were spilled out onto the floor; the mattress had been straight-up opened in half, its stuffing scattered everywhere; my clothes had been pulled out of the dresser, and every book that was once in my bookshelf had been ripped out, laying now on the hardwood floor.

"What the…" I let out, flabbergasted. "Mom, dad, what happened here?"

"Oh, so this isn't how you usually keep your room?" Regina sassed.

"What are you talking about?" my father shouted from downstairs.

"Someone's been going through my stuff," I explained. Dad hurried in the room, his concern mirroring my own.

"Woah. I had no idea any of this happened, I've come back from the station only an hour ago and I've been helping your mother to make dinner ever since…"

"What's going on…?" Mom had joined us as well, Henry following suit.

A powerful urge to protect my son took over me: whoever had vandalized my room could have easily found Harry, too. He had been sleeping there for the past few days. I automatically reached out a hand and he accepted my hug, stroking my back in a soothing motion.

_Since when is he the one comforting me, and not the other way around?_

"Oh my god," my mom let out, her hands shooting up to cover her mouth, probably even more shocked than anyone else.

"It must have happened this morning: I slept here last night, and of course everything was fine then," Henry reasoned. "What do you think they were looking for?"

"I think I might have an idea…" I looked at Regina, and I knew we were on the same page: the jewelry box. Good thing I always kept it where I knew it would be safe: at the mansion it was always where I could keep an eye on it, and when we happened to go out, Regina kept it in her handbag – which is exactly where it was at that moment.

"Luckily, they didn't find what they were looking for," I sighed, and made my way back downstairs, "so can we please have dinner? I'm starving."

The evening went on as if nothing had happened; mom seemed pretty upset at first, probably shocked that someone had broken into her home, but eventually she relaxed, and we all enjoyed that small slice of normality – something that was extremely rare in our family. We even agreed to have Henry sleep at the mansion.

I excused myself after a while, leaving my parents and Henry to their debate on the credibility of  _Law and Order_ , and led Regina outside the apartment and to the fire escape that led to the roof.

"I'm assuming this is your secret place?" she guessed, as we finally arrived.

I nodded as I headed to the beach chairs in the middle of the surface and grabbed a few blankets from a cabinet along the way.

"And I'm also assuming we're about to stargaze?"

I replied very maturely by sticking my tongue out at her tease. I went to lay down on one of the chairs and started to admire the night sky, hearing Regina's footsteps right behind me.

"Ever since I was little, my life has been all over the place," I told her, my eyes studying the stars above me. "I didn't have a home, I didn't have parents. I spent most of my childhood being tossed from a foster family to another, without even having enough time to get attached to someone before I would have to leave them.

"When I turned sixteen I ran away from the foster system, I became a thief and a year later I met Neal. We fell in love, but with the lifestyle we had chosen to pursue, we couldn't remain in the same place for too long, so we just stayed in motels and bed-and-breakfasts, and moved town every year.

"Then I came here, and I found my family and a place where I could finally settle down; but then, every other day some monster would try to kill us, or some bad guy would have us travel to another realm, and I never got the chance to actually enjoy it.

"Throughout all this time, regardless of what house, city or even world I was in, the sky has always been the same. It has always been the one thing, in my life, that was there to comfort me, to tell me that I was exactly where I was supposed to be. I would look up at the stars and I would find their familiar patterns stare back at me, letting me know that I was going to be fine. I found in the sky a certainty that I was never able to find on Earth: a home." I turned my head to the side, so that I could look at her. She kept staring at the pitch black veil right above us, her brown eyes catching the starlight. She was beautiful.

"You can't really see the stars, in New York," she murmured after a while. "This is breathtaking."

It felt like I couldn't divert my gaze, too charmed by her to even  _want_  to stop admiring her beauty. Not that I had never realized it before – it would take straight-up blindness not to realize how lovely she was – but, somehow, tonight was different. Maybe it was the atmosphere, or maybe her enraptured look, or maybe something else entirely.

"Yeah," I whispered back. "Breathtaking."


	13. Regina - Enjoyed

It was Saturday morning, and Emma, Henry and the Charmings were at the mansion – I still wasn't comfortable with the thought of it being my house, so I avoided the term as much as I could – browsing through old books and scrolls, looking for a way to get my memories back.

"Nothing," David snorted, tossing the umpteenth tome to the side and grabbing a new one from the pile we had clustered on the coffee table.

"Maybe asking grandpa is the only solution," Henry said, shutting the book he was reading and moving onto the next one. It took me a second to realize he was talking about that dodgy man – Gold, was it?

"He threatened us," Emma reminded him from her seat on the carpet right in front of the couch. "Besides, ever since your father passed away, we haven't been in exactly friendly terms with Gold…"

The room fell silent once again, everyone turning their attention back to researching. I felt slightly guilty for taking them through that much trouble, but I also had a feeling that that was a fairly normal situation for them – for  _us_ : leafing through an infinity of books, silently nostalgic of the convenience and rapidity of the internet and on the verge of tears due to the frustration of not finding anything useful.

"Listen, let's just go grab some lunch," Emma said after a while, getting up from her position and stretching with a way-too-distracting moan, "we could use a break."

"I'll cook," I intervened before any of them could suggest the greasy and unhealthy food of the diner, "I need to relax and that's the best way for me to do that."

I quickly put together a pasta dish while everyone else set the table. It was nice, very domestic; as if I was cooking for my family. It felt whimsical to realize that I actually  _was_.

"Regina, this is unbelievable," David muttered in awe, his mouth still full of spaghetti. The resemblance with Emma was almost ludicrous. Everyone else mumbled their agreement, and we went on making small talk until our plates were all empty and our bellies all full.

I insisted on doing the washing up by myself, reluctant to bother them any further, but I couldn't manage to dissuade Emma, ever the hardheaded one. She joined me while the others went back to the lounge, her hands already reaching for the cloth hung on the oven door, ready to dry.

We laughed and joked for a while, talking about nothing and everything, as if hanging out was the most natural thing in the world. Once again, guilt menaced to fill my mind, telling me that it was purely my fault that I didn't remember her; I quickly shooed the thought away, focusing on what she was saying instead.

"… And so I went to his room, hid the candies under his bed and ratted him out to our foster parents at the time," she was saying. "He got in trouble and never tried to mess with me again."

"Did that happen frequently?" I asked. "Did the kids you ended up living with make fun of you and play pranks?"

"Oh, yeah, all the time," she replied lightly. "They'd fill my lunchbox with worms, cut my hair while I was asleep, tell me no one was ever going to adopt me… stuff like that."

She shrugged as she completed her story, but I couldn't be more dumbfounded by her words. Guilt and fury fought inside my head as I felt them flow through my veins, so intense that I was almost shaking.

I knew that, if anyone were to be blamed for Emma's messed up childhood, I would be the first person on the list: I had cast the curse that had forced her parents to abandon her. It was my fault, and I was never going to forgive myself for that. Somehow, I knew I had always felt this way: this guilt wasn't new, it had been lingering in my guts for a long time, born long before I began my life in New York. It didn't make it easier to face, unfortunately.

The anger, however, was ever-so-different: it was partially aimed towards myself, but the most furious and fuming facet of it was completely steered towards those kids who made her childhood even more of a living hell. How could they be so thoughtless? How could they think any of the things they did to Emma was even remotely acceptable? But the worst part was that Emma was shrugging it off as if she was used to it, as if it was normal. Knowing her, she probably even thought she had deserved being bullied.

It was probably that last thought that made me snap; next thing I knew, the stove and the oven had turned on, the decorative candles on the counter had lit up and the soapy sponge I was holding had caught fire.

"Woah, hey, no need to go all Human Torch now," she said, quickly filling a glass with water and pouring it onto the sponge, then hurrying to blow the candles out and turn the appliances off. "It's my past, and there's nothing any of us can do about it. I've never blamed you for it, and I've learned to be glad for living that life. As much as I hated it at the time, it has made me become the person I am now. If my parents hadn't sent me here – if you hadn't cast that spell – I wouldn't have gotten pregnant, and none of us would have met Henry."

I let her words sink in, progressively relaxing as I took my time to cool off. She may not blame me, but I sure did – and I was always going to, no matter what she said.

Seeing that I still didn't look fine, she gave me a little nudge and suggested, "Why don't we go out tonight? I'll buy you a drink, it'll help you unwind. Nine o' clock. What do you say?"

Her offer left me slightly bemused. Anger and guilt forgotten, my mind was filled with another issue: I was most definitely exaggerating, I was reading too much between the lines, but… was she…  _asking me out_? On a  _date_?

A flock of butterflies took life in my stomach at the thought. I was so distracted by the idea of going on a date with Emma that I didn't even realize that butterflies don't fly in flocks.

I was  _definitely_  overthinking this… she probably just wanted to help me get my mind off of my problems, and I should've been appreciating her effort instead of feeling let down by the realization that she didn't like me that way. Sexually, yes – but emotionally? Unquestionably not. How could she? I literally ruined her life. I had caused her more pain than anyone else ever could. Besides, I should have been relieved that she didn't have romantic feelings for me: love is weakness; the only thing it leads to is an infinite amount of excruciating, unforgettable pain.

_But then, why are you so disappointed?_

I ignored the voice in my head and returned back to reality: I had been pondering for quite a while now, and Emma was starting to look concerned by my silence.

"Sure, why not?" I replied, and after beaming at me she returned to her task, drying the dishes with gusto.

Unfortunately, it seemed that my mind didn't want to collaborate with me: questions and fantasies on what was going to happen later that night kept taking over my thoughts, and it got to a point where I was so upset with my own brain that I started furiously scrubbing one of the plates I was washing, despite the fact that it was already immaculate.

"What did that plate ever do to you?" she teased, gently grabbing it and saving it from my deadly grip. "I'm telling you: just relax."

_Yeah, easy for you to say_ , I thought.  _You know what your own invite means. I_ don't _._

She looked at me for a second, apparently weighing up something… When she finally dipped her hand in the pool of water that had formed in the sink and proceeded to rub it on my face, causing me to gasp and my mouth to drop open in utter shock.

I looked at Emma with wide eyes for a moment, incredulous to what she had just had the guts to do. She held my gaze, a playful smile across her face that, however, didn't mask her hesitation: she was probably waiting for a reaction from me, unsure whether I was going to play along or get angry.

I decided to keep her on her toes. She wanted to play? Well, then I was going to have some fun too.

Narrowing my eyes at her, I grabbed onto my acting skills and did my best to feign anger.

I straightened my spine and puffed out my chest, as a seemingly effective attempt to appear more intimidating: the smile on her face disappeared almost immediately, her eyes widening in worry.

"Did you just get me wet?" I asked slowly, my voice calm yet menacing. I took a step towards her, enjoying how she instinctively moved backwards.

"Sure hope so," she managed to speak, biting her lip to suppress a grin. She was still scared, but, apparently, that didn't stop her from mocking me about unwanted double-entendres.

I held back my own amusement, continuing to step forward until her back hit the counter.

"I wouldn't take this lightly, if I were you,  _Miss Swan_ …" I intentionally went back to formalities, enunciating her name with deliberate slowness, causing her gaze to fall onto my lips. "You have no idea what I'm capable of."

And with that, I pinched her side, finally abandoning my angry mask.

Emma squealed in response, immediately jerking away from my hand, but I didn't let her escape: I repeated that torture a few times, enjoying her cackle and her pleas for mercy, accompanied by her struggles to avoid my fingers.

I only stopped when Henry and the Charmings peeked into the room, the cause of Emma's hilarity arousing their curiosity and the sight of what was happening even more so.

They gave us a startled look, but decided not to question what was happening, and went back to their tasks without a word.

I looked at Emma, who was now short of breath but beaming. She looked lovely when she smiled, all cheekbones and glowing eyes.

Following my instincts and not my mind, I leaned forwards and gave her a small peck on the lips, simply because I really wanted to. Once again, our magics reacted to each other, and when Emma started to deepen the kiss, her hands on my neck keeping me close, I sighed at the sensation of inebriation that blurred my mind.

A very brief moment of rationality reminded me that there were people in the next room; the door was closed, but I still broke away from the kiss, resting my forehead against hers. My cheeks were on fire, my heart pounding.

"Damn," she whispered, slightly breathless.

"My sentiments exactly."

I stepped away, walking back to the kitchen sink. Once again accompanied by a lighthearted conversation, we finished doing the washing up between chuckles and smiles, as if nothing had happened.

It was Henry's faint voice, coming from the other room, that wiped my serenity away. He had only posed a question and he wasn't addressing me, but it was enough for me to repress everything that I was feeling – everything that Emma, unaware of our son's words, was making me feel.

" _They're falling in love, aren't they?_ "

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw, that was a cute one! As always, thank you all so much for your wonderful comments and I shall see you again on Tuesday! Have a great weekend x


	14. Regina - Dated

After an extremely unproductive afternoon, during which the Disney Squad and I had kept researching until our migraines had become unbearable, I found myself  _freaking out_.

I had taken a shower to relax and forget about Henry's words, convincing myself that he was somehow talking about something entirely different than what I had assumed, and I was now sitting in front of my suitcase, at the mansion, with my hands pulling at my hair out of desperation.

_I had no idea what to wear_.

I had never been the kind of person who cared about other people's opinions, especially regarding my physical appearance, nor the type who would ponder too much on clothing. Yes, I did like to look good, and I also preferred elegant, designer clothes rather than plain jeans and an anonymous shirt, but that wasn't based on other people's liking – I did it purely for myself.

But now, after Emma had gone back to the loft with her parents and Henry had retired to his room to do his homework, I was more uncertain as to what I was going to wear that night than ever before.

First things first, I wasn't sure whether Emma and I were going on an actual date or not – hence, I had no idea if I should try to impress her or not. Secondly, I didn't know what type of dress code the place we were going to entailed. She said it was called 'The Rabbit Hole', but that's as far as my knowledge on the location went. Was it a restaurant? A bar? If everyone was going to be dressed casually, I had no intention of making a fool of myself and wear a fancy dress – or vice versa.

The fact that I had no one who could give me their own opinion on the matter, like a friend or a sibling, surely didn't help. I mean, I did have a sister, but, at the moment, I could barely consider her an acquaintance. I also had a very limited amount of clothes, seeing that I had prepared to stay in Storybrooke for no longer than a week.

And then it hit me: I was at  _my_  house. Despite the fact that it was fairly unfamiliar to me and that I could barely remember where the bathroom was, I used to live there, before that self-induced amnesia of mine: surely I had more clothes there. I most likely didn't bring all of them to New York with me, when I left after my curse.

I stood up and strode to the walk-in closet, happy to find it full of very tasteful items. I was also slightly impressed – but definitely not surprised – that said items were sorted by occasion, going from casual, on the left, to fancy, on the right. Thankfully, that arrangement speeded up my quest for an appropriate look for the evening: it only took me one hour.

I eventually opted for a white dress with scoop back that was slightly shorter than what I would typically wear, but still not indecent. High heels were a must, of course.

Finding an appropriate outfit, however, didn't help my nerves. I really wanted to impress Emma. Why, you ask? Well, that's a great question, isn't it?

Eventually, I stopped overthinking maniacally every single thing I was doing and retired to the lounge: there were no mirrors there, ergo there was no way for me to find something else faulty or out of place in the way I looked.

To my surprise, Henry was there, with his nose buried into one of the books we hadn't had enough time to study earlier that day. He looked up when he heard my stilettos clicking on the hardwood floor, mild perplexity dominating his features as he saw my particularly neat looks.

"Are you going on a date?" he asked straight out.

I tensed up. "Can you tell?" I asked, slightly panicking.

"I've seen ma get ready for dates when we were back in New York, and you sorta remind me of how she used to behave," he explained.

Of course I had told him I was going out, but I didn't specify the occasion. We had already had dinner – which had been surprisingly pleasant, devoid of any much-feared awkwardness – so he was going to be asleep for most of the time I would be out, but I obviously had to inform him I was going to leave regardless. I had made sure he knew that my phone was going to be on all the time, so if he needed anything he could call me and I would be back in the blink of an eye. I had also ordered him to go to bed by eleven at the latest, but I had a feeling he wasn't going to listen.

Anyhow, his words didn't help my already-on-edge mental situation: if Henry could tell I was going on a date, then Emma would too; and if she didn't mean for it to be a date, then I would totally embarrass myself.

"So, who's the lucky guy?" he asked with a smirk.

_Damn it_. I didn't think this part through. What if he wasn't okay with me and Emma going out? Or, even worse: what if he  _was_?!

"Uhm…" I stuttered, unsure of how to articulate an answer in the best way possible. "Actually, I'm not going out with a man…"

My hesitation confused him: he probably wasn't used to seeing his mother so insecure about something – especially if her wavering was triggered by a trivial occurrence such as a mere 'date'.

"I don't even know if it  _is_  a date," I continued, taking a seat next to him on the couch. I figured maybe talking to Henry would help.

"Okay, what did she say, exactly?" he questioned, twisting his body so that he was now facing me, his attention completely directed towards me. His determined expression made me smile a little, and I noticed how he didn't even blink at the admission that I was going out with a woman.

"She asked me to go out with her, saying that she would offer me a drink and pick me up at nine."

He squinted his eyes and nodded knowingly, before confirming, "It's a date."

I didn't know whether that information made me feel better or not. Either way, I didn't have much time to meditate on which reaction to have because the doorbell rang, causing me to jump up from the sofa.

"Oh, gods. Okay, remember the rules? No videogames after ten, stay clear off the candy cupboard and eyes closed by eleven. Clear?" I commanded, and by the faint grin on his face I could tell he was used to this kind of behavior from me.

"Crystal," he replied. With a cheeky wink, he added, "Good luck."

I considered for a moment the option of kissing him on the forehead as a goodbye, but eventually settled for a small smile and an uncombfortable wave.

I put my coat on, took a deep breath and, in a thrust of courage, I opened the door.

* * *

Emma had been wearing a long, black overcoat when I had walked outside, and that, added to the very limited amount of lighting, was the reason why I was only now shamelessly gaping at her.

We had arrived at the Rabbit Hole, and she had just taken her coat off, revealing a  _very_  tight and  _very_  red dress, and all I could think of, as of that moment, was her body. That dress – or, rather, those legs and that décolleté – was directing my thoughts to a very dangerous territory, and the fact that I had already seen what was underneath the thin layer of fabric certainly didn't help. Any trace of composure completely forgotten, it was unbelievably hard for me to stop contemplating what was, without the shadow of a doubt, the best view in Storybrooke.

"Stop objectifying me." Emma's amused voice made me snap back to reality.

I tried to shoot her an annoyed look in response – my breath hitched when I noticed, in the dim light of the entrance of the pub, that her smug grin was decorated by red lipstick. Needless to say, my attempt miserably failed.

Proceeding to take off my own coat, still vexed that she was so incredibly good looking, I noticed how her reaction to my own body comically resembled mine. Finally happy with my choice of clothes, I teasingly sashayed over to the main room, enjoying the effect I was having on her.

The pub was somewhat basic, there was nothing special about it: a few tables, a bar counter and a pool table were the main occupants of the space. There was also a fireplace on the furthest corner from the entrance, which looked slightly out of place, but I appreciated the warmth it spread throughout the whole room.

Luckily, there weren't many people there: a few loud drunkards waiting for the next drink, a group of younger girls playing pool, a random loner here and there and, of course, a half-bored-half-frustrated bartender who was, very stereotypically, rubbing a tumbler with a cloth. Most of them looked at us with curious attention, probably because they all knew who we were and found it interesting that the former Mayor and the Sheriff had decided to do something normal such as enjoying a night out on a Saturday.

Ignoring their stares, I followed my companion and sat on a counter stool next to her, ordering an Appletini for me and a beer for Emma as soon as the barman approached us. While her attention was focused on her phone, which had just signaled an incoming text message, I allowed myself a second to take in all of the details of her face, which I was finding more and more beautiful as each day passed. She was wearing more makeup than usual, but it didn't hide her normally stunning features, rather enhancing them: her eyes seemed greener than usual, her cheekbones higher, and  _those lips_ …

Luckily, she interrupted my train of thoughts before it could reach that off-limit zone: it certainly wasn't the right time or place for hormonal-teenager-like fantasies.

"Hey, you told Henry you were going on a date?" she asked me.

_Shit_.

If there ever were a moment, in my life, when I wished the ground would swallow me up, that was undoubtedly it.

Now she was going to ridicule me, laugh in my face and send me off to New York so that I could spend the rest of my life submerged by shame and utter embarrassment. What could I possibly say to fix that situation? I was thinking fast, but my fear for her reaction was making the whole process much harder than usual.

She showed me her phone, where laid open a text conversation between her and Henry.

**From: Kid** _Mom's going out on a date. Do you know who she's going with? Is she a respectable human being who would treat her right and never hurt her? I need to know. Operation Caterpillar is on._

A fond smile spread through my face as I took in the protectiveness of Henry's concern. How cute of him, worrying so much about his mother. Although I didn't quite understand the 'Operation Caterpillar' part…

"You  _never_  tell our son that you're going out with someone. He gets all freaky and protective and he stalks your date on Facebook until he's got a well-developed opinion about them, and then he tells you if they're worthy of your heart or not. It's usually the second," she explained. I mentally let out a relieved sigh, as I understood the reason why she had pointed out what I had told Henry. "And as much as I think it's extremely cute, I also believe it would be dangerous if he found out who you're currently on a date with."

Her light grin, accompanied by a slightly raised brow, changed into a polite smile as she accepted the drinks the bartender was handing us.

"How do you think he would react, if he found out about… 'this'?" I asked her, referring to the very unclear relationship between us.

"I think we should define what 'this' is before worrying about other people's responses," she précised, and I had to admit she was right. By the way she stopped looking at me, however, suddenly finding the neck of her beer bottle extremely interesting, I deduced that she didn't want to 'define' anything – at least, not yet – and I agreed with her.

Moving the conversation to a lighter topic (apparently her brother took his first steps earlier that night), we enjoyed the rest of the evening, happy to have our mind free from any actual worry for a second. I was left alone for a brief moment, while Emma excused herself to go to the restroom, and I ordered a second round of drinks for us both in the meantime.

However, a very slurred and very revolting voice interrupted that otherwise perfect night.

"Hello there, sweetheart." One of the drunkards that had been sitting on the furthest side of the counter approached me, taking the seat that had been occupied by Emma up until that moment. The difference between the two of them was almost comical: this man, balding and smelling of tequila, scruffy beard and small, watery, out-of-focus eyes, couldn't be more different than Emma, beautiful, charming, elegant (well, at least tonight she was) and, overall, simply perfect.

I jumped as he raised a hand to caress my arm, abruptly retreating from the touch as a strong sense of nausea and fuming anger filled me. I glared at him, hoping all of my disgust towards this man was showing.

"A babe like you shouldn't be sitting here all alone. I know a place where I could keep you company," he said, unfazed by my reaction to his behavior.

"I'm not alone and I'm most certainly not interested," I retorted, curtly, turning away as I hoped he wouldn't endure his very useless attempt to seduce me.

"Ah, playing hard to get, are ya'?" the man continued, to my – continuously increasing – repugnance. He placed a hand over my shoulder and my Appletini immediately caught fire, but he didn't seem to notice. He was testing my self-control, and I wasn't very motivated to be patient, at the moment. "Come on honey, I really want to see what you look like without this dress…"

"She said she's not interested." Emma's harsh voice stuck out from the others, and the relief that filled me was almost overwhelming. I really didn't want to make a scene and resort to extreme measures to get this guy the hell out of my face. "Get out."

The man looked at Emma with confusion, probably too drunk to recognize the actual Sheriff (he didn't even recognize  _me_ , so go figure), only to then adopt a challenging look.

He turned back towards me and, with a mocking tone, he said, "Who's this bitch, your girlfriend?"

I didn't have the time to fully process his words and let my fury out because, all of a sudden, every glass in the pub flew over and threw its contents on his face.

"Yes she is, you dickhead!" Emma's words were accompanied by a rage that perfectly mirrored my own, and I was extremely thankful that her control over magic was more accurate than my own.

I stood up, ignoring the implications of Emma's words while she threw a twenty-dollar bill on the counter, wanting to get out of that place before the drunkard recovered from the shock – or dried up from the drinks that had been poured onto him. Unfortunately, he was quicker than I had hoped, and after calling her a 'Fucking dyke', I didn't think twice before I punched him square in the face, shutting his mouth once and for all. Ignoring the stares from all of the other clients and, especially, Emma's dumbfounded – yet also admiring – one, I made my way out. I didn't need magic to handle some drunken prick.

Thanks to the adrenaline rush that moment had caused me, I didn't notice the pain in my right hand until Emma and I had arrived at the mansion. Still lucid enough to take our heels off in order to not wake Henry with their clicks on the hardwood floor, we went over to the kitchen, where she grabbed a handful of ice cubes from the freezer and wrapped them in a cloth, gently pressing it against my knuckles to ease the pain. Despite the supposed help of the ice, I couldn't stop myself from thinking that the fact that Emma was holding my hand, sending shivers of magic all through my arm, was the best analgesic in the world.

Then I noticed that she had actually been healing my hand with her magic, which made the whole situation much less poetic, but she didn't let go of it, and the tingle of our magic persisted.

Although she seemed to have cooled off, anger was still boiling up inside me.

"Sorry this evening didn't turn out the way you planned it," she murmured, her eyes fixed on our hands.

I immediately relented at her words: of course she would feel guilty for something she hadn't caused.

"Hey," I murmured, using my free hand to lift her chin up and look at her in the eyes, "it's not your fault some misogynistic and homophobic asshole was there."

She smiled lightly, barely relieved by my words.

"Besides," I continued, after a pause, "I don't think this night was a complete disaster."

I had walked closer to her, our bodies now brushing against each other, and I was running a finger up her thigh, my feathery touch following the curve of her backside and then her spine, titillating her neck as I felt her shiver under my caress.

"You are still the most gorgeous sight in Storybrooke…" I lowered one of the straps of her dress as I talked, "… and I'm still planning on taking this off of you, tonight."

Her lips captured mine and, once again, we gave in to lust.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys! I love you all so much, thank you for your positive reviews and I'm super glad you like this story. It gets better as the chapters go by, don't worry. I hope you have a wonderful rest of the week, and I shall see you on Saturday!


	15. Regina - Unexpected

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double update today since I missed Saturday! Hope you like it x

There were many things I didn't like: the majority of the people I was forced to deal with, for instance; the sound of people snoring; the unrequited invasion of my personal space.

In that moment, however, none of that seemed to matter. I had just woken up with a still-asleep Emma laying right on top of me, her head resting on my chest and her arms wrapped around my waist. The faintest – and, undeniably, cutest – of snores was coming out of her ajar lips, her warm breath a soft tingle on my bare skin. The covers were piled on one side, but the warmth of our bodies was enough not to feel cold.

We were both naked, tangled together as usual, and to my absolute surprise I found myself wanting to wake up to the sight of an extremely relaxed and insanely beautiful Emma more often, delighting in the softness of her skin, my fingers lost between her disheveled hair, the smell of sleep and sex mixed with the unique scent of  _Emma_. Her taste was still on my lips, my muscles were pleasantly sore from the 'exercise' of the previous night and every inch of my body in contact with hers was prickling with magic.

She was all over the place, and I loved it.

I closed my eyes to rest for a bit longer, but a sleepy movement from Emma informed me she was waking up as well.

"Good morning," I greeted her with my eyes still shut, my voice annoyingly husky.

She snuggled closer, rubbing her nose on my chest and then hiding her face in the crook of my neck. She planted a chaste kiss there, for good measure, and I couldn't stop a goofy grin from forming onto my lips.

A small chuckle had me open my eyes and look at Emma.

"What?" I asked her, and my heart skipped a beat at the sight of her shiny eyes and her relaxed smile.

She shook her head, distracting me with a slow, lazy kiss that tasted so much of sleep and Emma that I felt like I could live off of it and be completely satiated.

"What time is it?" I managed to ask in between kisses. I moved from her lips to her neck while she leaned over to check her phone.

"Eleven sharp," she replied, letting out a shaky sigh when I kissed an especially sensitive spot right below her ear.

"We should get up," I commented, once again seizing her lips.

A distracted, 'Mmh-mh,' expressed her agreement, but neither of us seemed to be planning on doing that… until Henry's voice, dangerously close to my room, brought us back to reality.

"Mom, can I come in?" he shouted from the hallway. I hurried to grab the covers and throw them over Emma, whom I not-very-gently pushed further down so that her hair wouldn't stick out from the sheets, and proceeded to bring them up to my chin, in hopes that Henry wouldn't notice I wasn't wearing any clothes.

"Of course!" I shouted back, as soon as I made sure I was presentable.

He opened the door and peeked inside the room, slightly puzzled when he saw I hadn't gotten up yet.

"How come you're still in bed?" he asked, momentarily distracted from the reason why he wanted to come in.

"I came home late last night, I've only woken up ten minutes ago. Besides, it's Sunday: it's okay to sleep in," I explained, hoping he would fall for it.

Henry still didn't seem convinced, but he shrugged and went back to his original mission.

"Can we invite ma' over for lunch?" he asked, and my stomach flipped over. Did he know she was there?

"Of course?" I replied hesitantly, but his next words relieved me.

"Great! I'll give her a call right now," he said, beaming, and he closed the door as he took his phone out of his pocket.

I made sure the door was completely shut before I let Emma emerge from her refuge, ordering her to immediately switch her phone to silent mode so that Henry wouldn't hear it ring from my bedroom. She did as she was told and, after a quick peck, she ran to my bathroom to answer the call.

As soon as she greeted Henry with a, ''Sup, kid?' I ran to my bedroom door and pressed my ear against the wooden surface. I didn't hear Henry's reply, hence he had to have gone downstairs, to our immense luck.

I breathed a sigh of relief and joined Emma in the toilet that was connected to my room, planning on brushing my teeth… only to find my toothbrush unusable, at the moment, because Emma was very amusedly busy using it herself. Apparently, a mouth full of toothpaste didn't stop her from talking to her son.

"Of course, what time do you want me to be there?" she stammered out, spitting the excessive foam in the sink as she listened to Henry's answer.

As they went on talking, I stepped further inside the bathroom, hoping to at least be able to wash my face. When I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror, however, I froze.

I stared at Emma flabbergasted, my eyes wide in shock and my mouth open in a silent gasp. She smiled even wider at my reaction, and I understood what her earlier chuckle was due to.

My neck was  _covered_  in hickeys. Hickeys! How old was she, fifteen?!

I inspected the condition of my skin, checking the back as well to see if there were any bruises there too, but it seemed she had limited herself to the front. My breasts weren't in better conditions, but at least the marks there could be easily covered by clothes. I counted ten, in total.

I looked like a Dalmatian, for gods' sake!

I glared at her amusement, rudely grabbing the toothbrush from her hand and beginning to brush my teeth. I was starting to suspect that she was dragging on the conversation with Henry only to keep me from scolding her, but if she expected to get away with it, hell, was she wrong!

"How mad are you?" she questioned, not a hint of worry in her voice, once she had finally hung up.

"Very," I said curtly, washing my mouth and, afterwards, my face.

Emma just stood there, eyeing me intently, a relaxed smile curving her lips.

"What?" I snapped after I was all dry.

She just shrugged in response, walking closer to me. "We sleep a lot."

"Perceptive," I commented, sarcasm filling every syllable. "At least I have my reasons: I haven't been able to rest for the past three months. I need to make up for lost time – besides, I also have my mental stability to restore. You have no excuses: you're a log."

Emma rolled her eyes at my reply, starting to put her dress back on: in a brief moment of lucidity, the previous night, she had had the good sense of poofing the clothes we had taken off downstairs in my room, as well as the bug, which was now safe and sound in front of Emma's loft.

"It's completely your fault. I've never slept this long, before. I know it doesn't look like it, but I'm very much of a morning person. It's just that you're very nice to sleep with… you make me want to stay in bed with you forever. I guess I'm a sucker for cuddles..."

She trailed off, looking at something behind me, and I quickly turned around, forgetting about the butterflies that had filled my stomach at her words: on top of the sink, right next to my tube of toothpaste, was yet another crystal.

Slightly blue, this one was shaped like a wavy, squiggly dagger, and although I couldn't put my finger on what it was exactly, it did look rather familiar.

With a sigh, Emma walked past me and took it, her attitude suddenly defensive.

"We'll put this in the jewelry box later," she stated curtly, and I didn't retort: she seemed pretty upset about the crystal, and I didn't want to make her feel even worse. I gave her a simple nod, and she carefully slid the dagger into the pocket of her overcoat.

She then teleported to her place, and I finally had the chance to actually  _think_  for the first time since the previous night. While I put some clean clothes on, I pondered on what was going on in my head: when and how did Emma and I go from 'sleeping together' and 'occasionally  _sleeping together_ ' to 'cuddling' and 'making out like teenagers'? The other times we had both concurred that having sex had been a mistake, so… what changed?

_You've just gone out on a_ date _. You know exactly what changed_ , my inner voice pointed out, and I couldn't deny it was right.

It was time that I accepted the truth. I needed to admit, at least to myself, that my feelings were changing, becoming something more terrifying and new day by day.

By accepting to go on that date with her, I had – maybe unconsciously, maybe not so much – opened myself up to the possibility of a relationship.

The thought scared me more than I would ever admit. I didn't have proper memories about past relationships, but according to what I had been told and what I was living in that moment, none of them had gone well. I knew the same went for Emma, who had told me about Neal and had mentioned Captain Hook: perhaps that shared situation was the reason why, despite my fears, I had accepted her invite – not only out on a date, but also into her life.

The biggest problem was precisely that: I  _trusted_  Emma. I had begun trusting her the moment I first met her, and I had the strangest feeling, buried in my chest yet crystal clear, that I wasn't going to rue the decision of welcoming her under my skin. I knew for a fact that it was due to what I used to feel for her before the curse: I had contorted, confused but also extremely powerful feelings for Emma, back then, and trust was the first one on the list – immediately followed by that sexual tension that had led us to where we were now.

It was surprisingly overwhelming to let those thoughts out into the open: I suspected that the old me was used to repressing them even more than I had been, and finally allowing my mind and my heart the freedom they had so strongly been denied felt… relieving. Scary, yes; but relieving nonetheless.

Deciding that was enough confessions for one day, I grabbed a light scarf from one of my dresser's drawers and tied it around my neck, covering those damned marks as best as I could, and made my way downstairs.

"Take your feet off the coffee table," I admonished Henry as soon as I saw him. "Still dealing with those books, huh?"

I sat on the couch beside him, commenting on the tome he was studying.

"Well, there has to be something, somewhere!" he exclaimed, and I gently squeezed his shoulder to comfort him.

"We'll figure this out," I murmured, and excused myself to go make lunch.

* * *

The oven went off the exact moment the doorbell rang.

Henry was at the door even before I could ask him to go greet Emma: he clearly had been missing spending some time with both of his mothers.

I smiled when I saw Emma's bright grin as she hugged him: it appeared that the discovery from earlier had been forgotten, her affliction about the newfound crystal replaced by genuine happiness.

" _Ooh_ , something smells delicious!" Emma exclaimed as soon as she was inside. "Oh, my God, did you make lasagna?!" she then yelled, clearly addressing me, and basically ran into the kitchen.

She had changed into some more comfortable clothes, and she held back a laugh when she saw my scarf.

"I  _love_  your lasagna," she informed me, overly-excited about the dish.

"Well, good to know," I replied, and gave her an evil smile, "because you're not eating these. The lasagna are for me and Henry; you're going to eat that  _very_ tasty salad over there."

Her expression dropped immediately; she looked at the side of the counter I was pointing at, and went pale.

"But…" she began, only to fall silent after a look at my scarf: she knew she had it coming.

_See, Swan? This is what you get for messing with the Evil Queen_.

A resigned sigh made me gloat, and she moodily flopped down on her chair in the dining room, a sulk forming on her face, as I set lasagna and salad on the table.

"How come you're eating  _that_?" Henry asked with a grimace, almost disgusted by the healthy food in front of Emma.

"Your mother decided to be a responsible adult and eat healthy, today," I replied with a spiteful grin, raising a brow as I turned to Emma. "Isn't that so?"

"Mmh-mh," she replied, without even looking up. She half-heartedly stabbed the salad with her fork and brought it to her mouth, giving me a despising glare as she chewed.

"Oookay," Henry murmured, confused by our odd behavior, but he didn't question it, changing the topic of the conversation instead. "Why are you wearing a scarf?"

_Crap_. "Uh, I have a bit of a sore throat… You know, it was pretty cold last night…"

"Oh, by the way! How'd it go?" he asked, suddenly more excited.

Emma's ears perked up at the question, although her gaze remained fixed on her plate.

"It went… adequately…" I replied. I didn't want to give Emma the satisfaction of knowing just how much I had enjoyed her company, but I also didn't want to lie to my son. "We went to the Rabbit Hole, she offered me a couple of drinks."

That brief recap of the previous night, however, didn't satisfy Henry's curiosity. He insisted on wanting to know the details, and that's when it hit me – his plan was always to find out who I had gone out with. That's why he had invited Emma for lunch in the first place: he hoped she'd help him achieve his objective. Little did he know, Emma was on  _my_  side, not his. Every time the conversation would center on the identity of the mysterious woman I went out with, she very promptly changed the topic – which would've been extremely helpful, if she hadn't kept asking about my opinion on the evening and my feelings towards this person, not without an incredible amount of amusement that she didn't manage to conceal very well. I knew she was doing it as payback for the salad, but I still didn't want to admit to having very much enjoyed the night out.

Essentially, I wanted to tell Henry what I truly thought of the evening, but without Emma knowing; and I couldn't reveal my date's identity to Henry. I was  _screwed_ , and a headache was on the verge of breaking out.

"So, what did you think of her?" Emma asked at some point, placing her chin in her hand as she stared at me with a cocky grin.

"Beautiful," I simply confessed, honest; as long as we focused on physical attraction, I was fine. "She remembered I told her she looked good in red, so she made sure to go overboard with it."

I noticed a flash of hesitation behind Emma's otherwise confident eyes. Did she really think I hadn't realized why she had chosen to wear that color?

"And why did you think that color looked good on her? Maybe it complemented her skin tone, or her eyes?" Henry intervened. Oh, so now he was looking for a physical description, huh? Smart. Definitely, his perceptiveness and persistence were traits he had inherited from me, nurture-wise.

"A little bit of both, I imagine," I replied. Sorry, Henry: no details for you, today.

"What else?" Emma insisted. Her expression had now grown more serious.

I sighed, reading in her eyes a need she would never admit of out loud: the reassurance that what she had done was good, the confirmation that her effort had been appreciated. I saw a link between that necessity and her maimed childhood, and I gave in to the fear hidden behind those green irises, wanting to soothe it as much as possible.

"She was kind," I confessed, locking my gaze with hers. "Funny. Caring. She made me forget about each and every one of my problems, and I couldn't be more grateful. She was protective. Surprising. But, above all, she was  _special_ : she made everything around her just as unique as she was – she always does. She elevates the most ordinary moments to something unforgettable."

"You really like her, don't you?" Henry asked, causing me to move my eyes over to him.

I smirked, going back to the tease to lighten the mood. "Not particularly."


	16. Emma - Brought

According to my calculations, Regina would have to be back in New York by December 13th, hence, I only had three more days to find an outlet for her little memory issue. However, no matter how hard we looked or how desperately we read those books, every single lead we followed eventually turned out to be a dead end.

Going against my family's natural propensity, I was starting to lose hope. How could we possibly fix such an irreparable mess?! There was something, a hint of a solution, buried in my subconscious and tickling my consciousness just enough to frustrate me, but it was still out of my reach – maybe because I actually wanted it to be.

At the moment, anyway, I had more pressing urgencies to deal with. Regina and I had met in the lounge after she had gone upstairs to get the jewelry box, and we were now sitting on the couch, ready to open it and put the dagger in its place on the velvet pad.

I was planning on doing so as quickly as I could. I didn't know if I would be able to bear the pressing weight of my dark past for much longer than a few seconds: I had a feeling that I wasn't going to enjoy the emotions the magical reaction was going to stimulate, and even less the memories that would, inevitably, follow suit.

Regina, observant as always, had noticed my wavering, and she had put the little bickering from earlier aside for my sake – which I was extremely grateful for. She was being thoughtful and caring, as she had always been when I found myself in emotionally challenging situations, and I appreciated her maturity.

"Are you ready?" she asked me, her eyes filled with worry.

I gave her a resolute nod, and steeled myself for what was about to come. She opened the jewelry box and a wave of darkness and desperation submerged me, just as suffocating and familiar as I had feared. It was a part of myself I had suppressed and shut in the most remote corner of my soul and never thought about, too ashamed and too afraid of it to let my thoughts linger on that fraction of myself.

However, now that it was back all at once, the intensity of those feelings floored me, and I found myself unable to think straight, overwhelmed by the power of my past. Thankfully, I wasn't alone: Regina saw the difficulty I was having and instantly jerked the crystal out of my grip and fit it into its spot inside the box, the flashbacks I was having and the growing pain disappearing along with the blue tint of the tiny dagger.

"Are you alright, dear?" Regina asked.

I had taken into consideration the possibility of seeing fear in her eyes when she would acknowledge that I had once been dark, too; but in those brown irisis I didn't find any trace of that, nor of compassion or pity. There was just selfless, simple worry for my well-being, that softened as soon as I gave her a reassuring smile.

"So, how about dinner at Granny's with your parents?" she suggested in a succeeding attempt at lightening the mood.

"I'll text them right now," I said, my phone already in hand. Nothing better than my family to get over the darkness. After I was done and my heart felt a little lighter, I gave Regina a knowing look.

"What?"

"You like them. Admit it."

"Who?" She feigned confusion. "Your parents?  _Ha_. Very funny."

"You want to go out for dinner with them. You  _love_  spending time with them."

"Not in the slightest."

I sighed theatrically, rising from the couch and sticking a hand out to help Regina up. "Remember my superpower?" I smirked as I saw she was taken aback, and I held onto that very rare moment of weakness. I headed towards the pile of books on the coffee table as I continued. "Just wait until my mom knows about this. She'll start scheduling sleepovers every other night, and my father will bring you along for stakeouts, telling you everything he knows about fishing while you wait in the patrol car for a whole lot of  _nothing_  to happen. I have the power of damning you to a future so horrible you'll long for another curse."

She stared back at me defiantly, contemplating the truthfulness of my intentions.

"You wouldn't," she stated, finally.

She was right, of course: I would never do something as terrible as that, to her. Even Ruby, who was my mother's best friend, couldn't stand staying around her for more than two hours straight.

"Try me," I said anyway, raising an eyebrow mischievously, and followed her to the kitchen.

She shook her head in disbelief, but didn't comment, changing the topic instead.

"I'm going to make apple pie. Will you help me, or is that too much to ask to your clumsiness?" she mocked.

"Actually, I wasn't the one who set fire to both stove and oven because she couldn't control her magic."

"You were talking about the mean things those kids did to you," she pouted, and for a good moment I couldn't think of anything but the word 'cute', over and over again.

"You also  _punched_  a drunk dude because he called me a 'dyke'. Careful, Your Majesty: someone might think you care about me," I joked.

"There were many reasons why I punched that man," she said, forgotten anger threatening to arise. "You can't say he didn't deserve it."

"Well, I did appreciate the sight of a magically unstable, former Evil Queen lose control," I confessed, "but he was drunk and he was an idiot. He wasn't worth you almost breaking your hand."

I grabbed her right hand and studied carefully the bruises that had formed right on top of the knuckles, despite my incantation. Regina used to be the good one at healing spells, not me. Although I couldn't exactly concentrate on that, when our magics were tingling and my heart fluttering at the thrilling sensation.

I made the terrible choice of looking up and catching her gaze, and all of a sudden the world around me disappeared, and there was nothing but her eyes and her mouth and just  _Regina_  left, and I really needed to control my impulses but I also didn't want to, because her lips were so soft and her caresses so sweet, and she tasted like heaven and hell in unison. I knew I could live off of Regina's kisses and be the happiest woman in the world; and, although it was such a scary thought, I couldn't help but repress my fears, because nothing mattered at the moment.

It was all tongues and shaky breaths and wandering hands. There wasn't the same urge as the other times: this was just a kiss, none of us meant for it to turn into another quickie on the kitchen island; regardless, it was just as fulfilling.

I smiled when my hand found her neck and I pulled at her scarf; she bit my bottom lip in response and broke the kiss, glaring at me with those beautiful eyes. I was feeling  _so_  content, all the time, when I was around her. It felt nice not to care about anything else, just the one person your happiness was starting to depend on.

"Come on, let's make that apple pie," I said then. "You'll do the hard work and I'll annoy you."

* * *

"It was so beautiful! For a change, I was glad Neal had woken me up. I was still half-asleep as I changed him, so I almost missed it, but  _thank gods_  I peeked outside the window! I woke David up as soon as I saw the sky, we stood there staring until it faded away.  _So_  gorgeous…"

We were all sitting at our usual table at Granny's, almost done with our dinners, and I was trying to keep an impassive expression to Snow's story about the Aurora Borealis she had seen the previous night. Of course I knew what had caused it – northern lights weren't a common manifestation in Maine, although neither my parents nor Henry seemed to find it as quirky as I would have – and I hoped nobody noticed the blush that had grown deeper and deeper on Regina's cheeks as mom went on talking.

This whole situation was getting out of hand. Either Regina –  _and I_  – learned how to keep her –  _our_  – powers under control, and consequently stopped causing those weather-related incidents, or we found a way to get her memories back, or… we just stopped having sex.

Slightly baffled at the realization that it was that last thought, the one that troubled me the most, I cringed at the idea of putting a stopper to… whatever it was, that was going on between us.

It wasn't just 'sex', it had never been solely physical attraction – not even when we first met. Ever since the beginning, it had been more than that: something we had both longed for, a need none of us was aware of having until Regina had left, leaving me emptier than ever. And now that she was back, now that we were once again together, we knew there was no time to waste and we had to take that leap into the unknown that we had always been so afraid of; but, despite this knowledge, that irrational fear remained, clinging onto my guts and my heart. It was paralyzing and so, so wearying, and of course, I couldn't control it.

And it was exactly that terror that had been – and still was – keeping me from putting a label to what I felt for her, too strong for me to even admit to myself what it really consisted in.

Thus, I kept running away from all those feelings, and I kept building up walls, and no matter how well I knew that I would have to face those emotions very soon – I risked losing Regina again, if I didn't – I couldn't bring myself to do it, at the moment.

"… I even took a photo, it was too beautiful not to," my mother was saying, and I snapped out of my thoughts.

She held her phone out for everyone else to see, and I admired the rainbow of blues and purples and greens that was floating in the sky right above – as I had presumed – where Mifflin street was, although Regina's house was too far away to be seen clearly. To our immense luck, neither my parents nor Henry connected the position of that phenomenon to the mansion.

Despite my worry, however, I couldn't stop myself from thinking that we had done a hell of a good job: the sky was stunning, to put it simply. I gazed at Regina, seemingly just as impressed – maybe not as proud of herself as I was, but still – and I had to suppress a smile when she sensed my cockiness and rolled her eyes at me.

She then talked, wittingly diverting the attention from the picture before anyone could figure out where exactly the aurora had formed and put two and two together. "I made apple pie. I brought it over, we can all have some… If Granny doesn't take it personally."

Everyone at the table but me stiffened at her offer, and I couldn't help but snort at their immaturity.  _Yes_ , she might have poisoned an apple and  _yes_ , maybe an apple turnover, too, and  _fine_ , two of the people in this family might have suffered the consequences, but it's not like everything even slightly related to both Regina and apples was a threat, now. Besides, I had diligently supervised her work, and although I hadn't paid any attention to half the things she had done – her backside was  _definitely_  more appealing than pastry – I was still pretty sure no sleeping curses had been involved.

Ignoring their reactions, she cut eight perfect sections and in a flash one of the slices was already in my mouth. Granny – whom looked rather supportive, despite the pie not being hers – hurried to take away our empty dishes and replace them with clean dessert ones.

"I think I'll pass," Snow said, paler than ever, distrustfully eyeing the pastry.

Henry, on the other hand, very bravely took a big piece of pie and devoured it, not doubting for a second his mother's intentions – he was way past that phase, now.

Not that my mom didn't trust Regina; I thought it was more of a natural reaction, an irrational instinct of self-preservation.

After David had surrendered to the tasty treat as well, Regina spoke up again. "Come on, Miss Blanchard. 'It's apple pie that makes the menfolks' mouths water'!"

Maybe it was the impression of the hag from the Disney movie, or maybe the quote being said by the actual Evil Queen herself, but my mother's face turned a very worrying shade of green and she straight-up passed out on her seat.

No one said anything for a good second, too confused and puzzled to do anything; then I burst out into a laugh, both at the horror on Regina's demeanor and at my mother's exaggerated reaction, and David proceeded to lift her legs up and gently stroke her hair, asking a waiter for a wet towel.

"I think it's some sort of PTSD or something," Henry muttered, just as worried about his grandmother but also imperceptibly amused. "After, you know, her history with apples."

"Oh, come on," I retorted, "she's just overreacting. Now she acts like she's been poisoned only by the  _sight_  of an apple…"

"Well, would you look at that?" Regina crossed her arms on her chest and arched a brow. "It appears that being a drama queen is hereditary."

* * *

"Why are we here, again?" Regina complained while we stepped out of the bug and closerto the building.

I had had to make a quick stop at the station after dinner: my father was taking care of both Neal and my mother by himself, and he had forgotten my brother's spare pacifier in his office, a few days prior – the usual one was nowhere to be found, according to him. I  _had_  told him that keeping Neal's stuff in his pockets wasn't a good idea – and, of course, I had to drag Regina along as well.

"My dad left something here," I explained briefly. We entered the station, heading towards my office, following the route that I had been taking every morning for the past few years and that I was, admittedly, starting to miss.

"Sorry, correction – what am  _I_  doing here?" she précised, and Ruby greeted us with the brightest of smiles as we entered. She was covering my father's shifts on the weekend – hence why she wasn't at Granny's earlier – and she was currently filling up some paperwork.

"You're here because you can't stay away from me," I smirked, getting a snort in response, accompanied by a disgusted grimace.

"In your dreams, maybe," Regina retorted.

"Oh, you have no idea what you do in my dreams," I shot back with a smirk, and I burst into a cackle at the shock that grew on her face.

"Hi guys," Ruby said, interrupting that little flirt with a knowing grin that I couldn't completely understand. She looked like she was holding back something, the sparkle in her eyes proving that she was suppressing some sort of glee. "How are ya?" She then managed to let out, her gaze darting from me to Regina and back – frantically so.

"We're fine, thank you?" Regina replied, just as puzzled as me. "How about you?"

She didn't say anything for a moment, but then she proceeded to nod excitedly and she jumped up from her chair, circling the desk to hug us tight, just like that.

A very,  _very_  high-pitched squeal escaped her lips when she let us go – my eardrums were never going to be the same – and she kept staring at us in awe, her hands over her mouth as if they could hide her huge grin.

"Rubes?" I questioned. What was up with her?!

"I'm-just-very-happy-for-you-guys-and-I-think-you-make-a-very-cute-couple-and-I've-been-waiting-for-years-for-you-to-finally-get-together-and-you-look-so-happy-it-hurts," she rambled, a vomit of words that I could barely make out the sense of.

"We're not a couple," Regina and I immediately pointed out, talking in unison.

It was almost comical, how quickly Ruby's smile disappeared, replaced by a hardly-contained, raw fury. "Pardon?" she asked, pronouncing those two syllables menacingly slowly.

I didn't have enough time to repeat myself: a blinding light shone through the rolling shutters, a bright, green beam that came from Main Street.

We didn't think twice before we all ran out of the station and towards the cause of that light, curious and worried about what had just happened.

The cool air bored my skin as I stepped outside, and clouds of condensed breath were floating around us each time we exhaled.

"What was that?" Regina asked, looking around but not seeing anything out of place. I also scoped the area; the lack of light surely didn't help, my eyes unable to pierce through the veil of the recently fallen night.

However, one of us  _did_  have such an ability, all thanks to her werewolf 'superpowers'. And, in fact, she gasped when she managed to see what had produced the ray of green light, exclaiming a single, apparently nonsense word.

" _Kansas_?!"


	17. Chapter 17

I had no idea what Ruby had meant by randomly naming a State, but she abruptly sprang to the left and ran, her figure disappearing in the darkness as it melted with the shadows of the night.

"Ruby!" I called after her. I hurried at her heel to follow her, linking a hand with Regina's to make sure I wouldn't lose her. Why the hell weren't there working lampposts along Main Street?!

"Guys!" Ruby called from somewhere to my left hand side, and I finally found her kneeling on the ground. A woman about her age was laying in front of her, completely unconscious, with her head resting on Ruby's lap. "We need to get her to a doctor…"

I didn't think twice before I channeled my magic and teleported us to the hospital, helplessly startling the nurses with our sudden materialization in the atrium.

Everything was very confused, from there. Several doctors rushed to take care of the girl, pushing Regina and I away and resigning to the fact that Ruby was going to stay with the patient until she had made sure she would be okay – her intentions emphasized by a rather persuading growl that reminded the staff just who they were dealing with.

It wasn't until Regina and I had retired to the waiting room – a plain sitting area with white walls, green plastic chairs and a coffee machine in a corner – that I realized we were still hand in hand, holding onto each other as if our lives depended on it.

"Who was that woman?" Regina took a seat after she had detangled her hand from my own, nonchalantly taking it back into her gentle grip as soon as I had sat down next to her. She started playing with my fingers, her feathery, tingly touch comforting to the mayhem that were my nerves at the moment.

"I don't know," I confessed. I automatically turned my head to look at the frenzied bustle of nurses and doctors in the corridors. "And I don't know how she managed to get here, either. By the looks of it, she came from another world."

Noticing the determination and frustration in my voice, she consoled me. "Don't lose your sleep over it, dear. We'll get to the bottom of this." She paused a second, releasing a sigh before adding, hesitantly, "Do you… do you reckon there may be a possibility that the crystals originated from another dimension as well?"

I meditated on her question for a moment. It was definitely plausible, although I couldn't begin to imagine where exactly they came from: I wasn't quite as familiar with parallel dimensions as Regina was – or used to be.

"It isn't unlikely," I replied, "but I have no clue as to where they might come from."

Regina nodded, letting us fall into a comfortable silence as the conversation came to an end. I snuggled closer to her and rested my head on her shoulder, enjoying her soft breath in my hair, her lips lightly brushing against me.

"Maybe you ought to call David. He will worry if he doesn't hear from you. I'll tell Henry why we haven't come back home yet, meanwhile."

She was right. With a heavy sigh I pulled my phone out of my back pocket and dialed my father's number. When he picked up, I quickly informed him of the situation we were having, reassuring him that I would magic the pacifier at the loft so that he could stop worrying about it.

"How's mom doing?" I asked him before hanging up. I was aware that nothing major had happened, but that knowledge didn't keep me from being concerned for my mother.

"She's alright," dad replied. "She has slept almost the whole afternoon, so now she's all hyped and making plans for the party she's throwing in a few days."

"Ugh, right! The party." I sighed. "I forgot that's really gonna happen, kinda hoped it had been a nightmare."

"Come on honey, you'll like it. Just wait and see."

I replied with a non-committal, "Mmh," and hung up before he could start rambling about how much effort my mom was putting in the organization, and how I was going to love it in the end.

When I turned around to see if Regina was done calling Henry, I found her giggling at something our son had said, and a smile reflexively sprang on my face at that beautiful sound. I watched her; her eyes were glimmering, just like they always were when she talked to our son, and her face was lit by a genuine smile. She was stunning.

"Goodbye, Henry," she said then, ending the phone call and turning her attention back to me. "I told him to call his grandparents if we weren't back by eleven, and ask them to bring him to the loft."

I felt my smile slowly fade away at her words. That thoughtful gesture was exactly what Regina – the  _real_  Regina – would have done, and as guilty as thinking of the woman I was currently facing as 'not real' made me feel, the nostalgia for my old friend spread through me, a tidal wave I couldn't stop nor avoid, that overpowered anything else I was feeling. Nonetheless, her words and her behavior were the proof that she was still there, somewhere, waiting to be set free. And with the wistfulness for Regina came also a deep, overwhelming fondness – one that pushed me forwards to meet her lips in the most desperate of kisses.

* * *

We arrived home at around ten PM. Henry was waiting for us in the lounge, so engrossed in the videogame he was playing that he didn't even notice we had entered the house until we joined him on the couch, on either side of him, and summarized to him everything that had happened during the past hour.

When Regina and I had left the hospital, it had been under Ruby's insistence. She had revealed to us the girl's identity – we had to make sure Zelena didn't find out that  _Dorothy Gale_  was in Storybrooke, by the way – after the doctors had done everything they could to make sure her vitals and her brain activity were stable, but she'd still been unconscious, by the time we had gone home. Ruby had assured us that she would call as soon as Dorothy woke up, but she had made it clear that we would talk to her only after she had recovered, afraid our pressing inquiry might startle her. Her protectiveness towards the new girl suggested to me that their relationship hovered somewhere beyond mere friendship, and I had to suppress my curiosity on the topic, out of respect for their privacy.

And now that I was finally able to relax, my head resting on top of Henry's shoulder as I watched his gameplay on the TV, the weight of that stressful evening suddenly dropped on me, leaving me weary and completely drained of any energy. Needless to say, it was a matter of seconds before I was fast asleep.

It hadn't been the best of slumbers, mostly caused by my body's exhaustion and need to recharge, rather than my mind actually being tired. I fell into a deep yet restless sleep, haunted by a feeling of emptiness – the lack of something that my subconscious couldn't quite figure out – that, eventually, woke me up.

I was still in the living room, spread on the couch. There was no sign of Regina or Henry, but I knew the blanket that was keeping me warm was their doing. A quick glance to the antique clock on the wall informed me that it was a little over midnight, hence Henry must have been asleep already, as a school day was waiting for him.

Which meant that Regina was all alone. At night.

I supposed she didn't keep me company on the sofa in order to avoid Henry's suspicion – his perceptiveness was  _definitely_  something he had developed after his other mother, just as observant as he was – but that meant exposing herself to the demons that had made her time in New York a living hell. Storybrooke wasn't nearly as noisy, especially at night, but I was still wary at the idea of her spending the night by herself.

My heartbeat started accelerating, worry filling my guts as I stumbled off the couch – no,  _you_  tripped over the blanket – and rushed up the stairs, careful not to make a noise.

The lack of screams and sobs slightly calmed me, but the thought of going back downstairs didn't even cross my mind. When I finally reached Regina's bedroom door, I suddenly felt unsure as to what I should do. Was I supposed to announce my presence? Ask if I could go in? Eventually I decided to just open the door and apologize to her if necessary.

I peeked inside, the door only ajar, and I was surprised to see Regina wide awake, her figure identifiable thanks to the dim moonlight that surrounded her as a halo, her demeanor filled with undeniable amusement.

"About time," she whispered mockingly, "you've been standing out there for no less than five minutes. I thought you had fallen back asleep on the floor."

I narrowed my eyes at her, finally making my way into the luxurious room and slipping under the covers next to her, an action I was quickly becoming familiar with. We both turned to face each other, and Regina's cheeky sneer wiped away most of the concern that had filled me before – although a considerable percentage of it still stuck with me.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I shot back, denying her assumption even though she was obviously right. Dropping our little bicker, I added, in all seriousness, "How are you?"

She understood what I was referring to without the need of a clarification. She took a deep breath and rolled on her back, staring at the ceiling with a hand tucked under her head.

"I'm fine," she said. "I didn't manage to get any sleep, but the silence that envelopes Storybrooke helps: I don't get mental breakdowns when I'm here. It's relaxing, soothing, even. I imagine what I used to experience back in New York was a natural reaction of my brain – it was hinting me that I didn't belong there, surrounded by the noise of a life that wasn't my own."

I nodded briefly in response. Her words did make sense, but I still couldn't fathom why something like that was happening. When my own memory had been modified – by none other than Regina herself – I never bumped into any traces of erased thoughts or side effects to the magic she had practiced onto me. And, knowing Regina, I highly doubted they had happened by mistake: she would never be so thoughtless, not even after the heartbreak that had supposedly led her to casting the curse. If her body and her subconscious were directing her towards Storybrooke, it was because she had meant for them to.

Regina had wanted us to find her… but then, why enact the curse in the first place?

"How come you woke up in the middle of the night?" she whispered after a while.

I shrugged in response. "Like I told you this morning, I only sleep a lot when I'm with you. Normally I'm a light sleeper: I've been scarred by too many things to be able to shut my mind off for more than a few hours at a time." My tone was light, but being that open about my feelings made me feel heavier than ever. She turned back towards me as I talked, and I looked into those brown eyes I was increasingly more drawn towards. "But you… you soothe me. It's as if I can only be in peace when I sleep with you. You manage to eclipse the demons in my head; you free me from my own mind. I'm very thankful for that." I added a smirk to that last sentence, but my tone immediately returned to its serious inclination. "I think I know why this is happening.

"When you cast that spell upon yourself, you didn't say anything to anybody. I could see why you wouldn't reveal your plans to anyone else, but you always let  _me_  know what you had in mind. This time you didn't. You left me a  _note_ , a fucking piece of paper with a few words to tell me not to go after you. Of course I didn't believe you at first, and I spent the following week looking for you all over town, hoping you were just avoiding me. When I realized you were actually gone, I felt as if the ground was crumbling beneath my feet, and I was falling deeper and deeper into a dimension of complete  _numbness_.

"I think I can only fully rest when I'm with you because now I know how much it hurts to be  _without_  you. When you went away – it broke me. And now I can't even conceive the idea of living without you again, so your presence appeases me, when I sleep." I moved as Regina wrapped her arms around me, and I settled on top of her, my head resting on that spot of her chest that let me hear the soft and regular thumping of her heart. "Even when I'm unconscious, listening to your heartbeat reminds me that you're here with me… and I'm not letting you slip away again."

"I'm not going anywhere," she breathed out, tightening her grip around my waist to mark the truthfulness of her words.

Somewhere around my stomach a few butterflies took flight; and I believed her.


	18. Emma - Danced

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally we get into the interesting part of the story - y'all aren't ready.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: Quick mention of blood at the very end of the chapter.

Grunts brimming with frustration – admittedly, childishly so – were all I could utter that afternoon. The third time a snort escaped my mouth, Regina stopped dead in her tracks and turned around to look at me, her eyes displaying an impatience you'd expect to be directed only to a petulant toddler.

"Emma, we get it: you don't want to go. But, honest to gods, I'll gag you with my scarf, if you don't shut your mouth," she hissed.

I looked at her with a sulk, not taking the threat too seriously – she might have been the Evil Queen, once, but she would never hurt me now, that much I was sure of.

Nonetheless, I didn't like her being angry at me – no matter how much I might have had it coming… Hence my next line.

"Kinky," I retorted an eyebrow perking up as I studied her reaction.

Her nostrils flared as I let out that single word. I would have taken it as a sign of seething ire, if the trembling corners of her mouth weren't suggesting otherwise: she was just trying to suppress a smile.

Unwilling to give in to amusement, Regina turned back around and resumed her journey behind the others, who hadn't noticed our brief exchange.

My mother, Belle, Regina and I were wandering around town on a quest to find appropriate outfits for the ball – the  _ball_ , which was taking place later  _that night_  – much to my disagreement.

Ruby had been supposed to join us, but she had called earlier that day to announce Dorothy's awakening, so she preferred to spend time with her and skip the party. I had tried to use Dorothy's interrogation as an excuse to avoid the ball, but my mother, being Ruby's best friend, was aware of her request to wait a few days for Dorothy to recover properly, before starting my inquire, and didn't fall for it. Unfortunately.

I hadn't even had the time to mentally prepare myself for that evening – Dorothy's sudden appearance had overcast any other worry, including that night's gathering – yet there I was, dragging myself behind an entirely too enthusiastic and hyperactive Snow White, a mildly excited but beaming Belle, and an exasperated Regina. We had been in and out of shops for the past two hours, and only Belle, who was pregnant but not yet showing, had found a dress fitting the occasion – she was still looking for a pair of heels to go with it, though.

Eventually, I gave in to being my mother's mannequin for the day – she was much more excited for what Regina and I were going to wear than herself – and let her dress me up like a Barbie doll. A great majority of the gowns she was making me try on were absolutely hideous – fluffy and puffy and frilly – to the point where I honestly thought she was intentionally trying to draw an emotional breakdown out of me. When I finally chose a dress – the most sober one I found, a silk, rose gold-colored gown that I only chose to put a stop to that endless torture, and definitely not because a certain someone couldn't take her eyes off my cleavage – mom moved her undesired attention onto Regina, whom had dread plastered all over her face, in stark contrast with my mother's glistening eyes and quivering limbs.

"If you dare even  _think_  I'm willing to wear anything even remotely as obnoxiously garish as what you made your daughter try on, I will end you," Regina informed, leading the way out of the changing rooms area and back to the main space to select some options, mom hot on her heels, unfazed by her menacing words.

"If it is the last thing you do?" mom mocked, and I swear I saw Regina's lips tilt upwards, even if only for a second. Ah, how I missed the good ol' days.

I heavily let myself sink into one of the poufs right outside the changing rooms, sincerely jaded from all the walking and changing of clothes, and Belle quickly joined me.

"How are you doing?" she inquired with her sweet, heavily-accented voice, intuitively thoughtful as always.

I didn't need her to elaborate her request to sense what she was referring to – having one of your closest friends forget who you are can't possibly be an easy burden to bear, not even for me.

So I confessed, sincere, "It's hard". I knew, even before I started talking, that I was going to blurt out everything I had been keeping inside for so long; Belle was someone I could trust – despite her questionable romantic choices – yet we didn't have enough close of a relationship for me to feel embarrassed or ashamed about letting my feelings out in the open. "When I first came to Storybrooke, I had never had anyone who cared about me. I was used to being alone, I had learned the hard way that growing attached to somebody would eventually hurt me, and I didn't think it was worth the risk.

"But then Henry dug his way into my life, followed by Mary Margaret and David and, despite the unconventional nature of our connection, Regina. As time went by, she became part of a family that I had spent most of my life dreaming of, and yet I had never thought I would actually get a chance of having. Despite my good sense and all the precautions I had taken, I couldn't help but actually grow fond of each and every member of it.

"The fact that Regina and I managed to turn a relationship that had started off as an odd fight of intimidation, pride and power into a real friendship – full of ups and downs, but a friendship nonetheless – made me cherish what we had even more than I normally would have. When she left, a few months ago, I realized that losing someone I had grown  _that_  attached to was a wound that would never completely heal – especially considering the fact that she didn't even remember who I was.

"And now I realize that my life has completely turned upside down the moment I crashed into the Storybrooke sign at the city limit: not because I found out where I came from and that the world I was living in was just one of many; but because from that moment on, my existence filled with people who care about me and whom not only I've grown fond of, but even learned to love. Losing one of them tore me apart; yes, she's back now, but she also isn't – and I have to take into consideration the possibility that she might never remember what our relationship used to be like and how much we've changed, during these years. I don't know if I'm ready for that."

I took a deep breath after my explanation; it had been cathartic. I felt much lighter after exposing my insecurities to Belle, and I was glad I had finally decided to open up to someone, strange as our current situation might have been.

She studied me for a moment, looking intently into my eyes; oddly enough, as she observed me I felt more exposed than while I was sharing my insecurities.

I sent a questioning glance her way, and after another moment of silence, she spoke up.

"You're in love with her, aren't you?" Belle's words were soft, her smile sweet and understanding.

I kept staring at the woman without really seeing her. She wasn't pushing me into confessing anything; she selflessly wanted me to ponder on my feelings and come to terms with them. I appreciated her efforts and gave her a grateful smile, but I couldn't help the thick walls that I had spent my whole life building up from rising, once again.

When a shadow of realization crossed Belle's eyes, I knew she understood what was happening inside my head: she knew I was closing myself up, and she didn't push the matter any further, merely squeezing my arm as she stood up and joined my mother and Regina on the other end of the shop.

I watched as the three of them scanned the dresses in search of valid candidates, Regina fairly often snapping a sarcastic comment to something my mother had suggested.

_Love_. Curious, how such a simple, small word could make you feel so utterly terrified.

* * *

"Come on, Emma, we're going to be late!" dad called out from downstairs.

It was around nine in the evening; I had excused myself and walked back to the loft right after my conversation with Belle, ignoring the worry on Regina's face as I busted out of the shop.

I tried my best not to think about Regina after that, but even now, as I finished getting ready, I couldn't help but wonder if she would like the way I looked.

With one last check at the mirror, I adjusted my lipstick and put on a pair of stilettos. I wasn't much of a fan of high heels, but I had to admit it – they made me look hot. I liked wearing them from time to time, a decision my feet were never too happy about… I still couldn't conceive how Regina managed to wear them every day.  _Stop thinking about her!_ , I reprimanded myself. Like that was ever gonna happen.

I yelled a, "Coming!" in reply to my father, desperate to get my mind off of things, and after a few tentative steps I managed to climb down the stairs without breaking my neck – and that was saying something.

After finally getting downstairs, dad – the regality and effortless elegance with which he wore his tuxedo hinting at his royal past – looked at me with glistening eyes and open mouth. I blushed slightly at his reaction, embarrassed by the attentions he was giving me.

"You look beautiful, honey," he said, and his fond smile hid almost completely the regret of not being able to see his little girl grow into the woman before him.

I smiled back and proceeded to fix his bowtie. The domesticity of that little moment made me realize just how glad I was to have finally found my family.

I threw on the classy overcoat hanging from the hooks right next to the front door and we made our way to the gathering, my mom already there to make sure everything was perfectly settled and met her ambitious expectations.

Once we arrived at Town Hall, I noticed that the walkway leading to the entrance had been covered by a red carpet, the hedges and benches at its sides decorated with fairylights to light up the path. I looped my arm around my father's, and I unconsciously straightened my back while we slowly strode inside.

The entrance hall was already crowded despite the early hour, our fellow citizens waiting for the footmen to take their coats to the adjacent room. Surprisingly, it wasn't very long until we entered the conference room-turned-ball room, very tastefully decorated. The sea of chairs that usually filled the main space had disappeared, and the platform for the occasional speaker had been re-arranged for the employed band, a white grand piano dominating the scene.

"You have to admit it," my father stated, after he had also taken a look at his surroundings, "she did a great job."

I hummed a small, non-committal, "Mmh," in response, not wanting to reveal just how positively impressed I was, and I shuffled through the swarm of people in order to find an isolated, hidden spot where I could vegetate until it was acceptable for me to leave without offending anybody.

A hand grasped my arm before I could get much further; turning around I saw my mom, flushed with excitement, gorgeous in her red dress that matched both her lips and her necklace.

"You look wonderful, dearie!" she exclaimed with a smile, cupping my cheek with one hand and holding my wrist with the other. "I hope you'll have a great time."

She left immediately after, not waiting for a reply, and I just stood there, confused, while I watched her disappear in the sea of people. My heart sank a bit as I realized she hadn't listened to a word I had said, when I had expressed my opposition to attending the party. Yes, maybe I was overreacting, but you'd want your mother to respect your wishes, right? Then again, she did put a lot of time and effort into making this evening possible; of course she wanted her daughter to see the result of such dedication. Thinking objectively at the reason why I was complaining, I perfectly understood why Henry and Regina called me a drama queen… they were right. Not that I was going to admit that any time soon…

Speak of the devil, my train of thoughts was interrupted when my son, wearing a dark blue tux, entered the room. I gawked at him for a good moment, but as soon as my brain processed what I was seeing, my eyes shamelessly filled with tears. When did he stop being that ten year-old that used to carry his fairytale book everywhere?!

Then, when I noticed who he was accompanying, nothing before, around or inside me mattered anymore. The whole world had offhandedly disappeared; there was no one except for the breathtaking woman who was laughing with my –  _our_  – son; and, honestly, I couldn't have asked for a better sight.

Regina gazed up, directly into my eyes, as if drawn by a primordial instinct; as if she knew exactly where I was. We kept staring at each other, unaware of our surroundings and careless of everything that was happening, other than each other.

As soon as I recollected a bit of rationality, I walked up to them, finding it extremely hard to tear my eyes away from Regina – and, I was glad to notice, she was having the same issue with me. It took a while, but I finally managed to divert my attention onto my son, who had been witnessing our interaction with a small, knowing grin that I didn't give much importance to.

"You look handsome, kid," I told him, ignoring his cocky expression. "Where'd you get the tux?"

"Granps took me to a tailor, last week. Do you think Violet will like it?" His question swiped away any trace of amusement from his face, replacing it with almost-comical worry.

"She'll love it," I replied, my tone calm and reassuring. I spotted the girl in question behind him, a couple of feet away from us. "Why don't you go ask her yourself?"

Henry waved us goodbye and went to join Violet, leaving Regina and I alone.

I could feel her gaze on me, the odd tingle at the base of my neck telling me so, and when I glanced up our eyes once again interlocked, unable to move away from each other.

"You look exceptionally beautiful tonight, Miss Swan," she whispered, her eyes never leaving mine.

"Why, thank you," I replied, bowing my head in mock formality. "The same applies for you, Your Majesty."

Our brief exchange was quickly interrupted by my mother's voice, enhanced by the microphone she was speaking from. Every single head in the room simultaneously turned towards the dais, my mother standing at the center of the stage with a warm smile on her face.

"People of Storybrooke, welcome! Thank you all for joining me on this beautiful evening. I hope you will all have a well-deserved wonderful time. Now, without any further ado… May the dancing begin!"

With those words, a large space opened in the middle of the crowd, as every person previously occupying it moved to the edges of the room to leave an empty area for my parents to start the dance. As they approached the center of the floor, a soft, light music filled the air, and soon enough several pairs of people had joined mom and dad, moving to the music and following a routine that surely originated from the Enchanted Forest.

There were a few couples, probably the people from Camelot, Neverland, Woderland or Oz, that simply swung from side to side, unaware of the movements everyone else was following.

Looking at all those pairings, I realized that I didn't actually have anyone to dance with: too busy complaining about the party itself, I hadn't considered bringing a date with me. Besides, there was but one person I would have liked to dance with; and I was never going to ask her. Firstly, because I didn't have the guts to, and secondly, because I knew all the attention would be on us, and I wasn't comfortable with the idea.

To distract me from my thoughts was Henry, who joined the dance with Violet. He wasn't following the Enchanted Forest's choreography, engaging in something more simple – and adorably awkward – instead.

"Where did he learn how to waltz?" My question was rhetorical; I wasn't expecting an answer, and when one came – despite it being disguised as another question – it took me by surprise.

"Why did you think he so badly wanted to get ready at the mansion?" Regina asked in reply, making me turn towards her.

"You taught him?"

She nodded, a proud, almost smug smile escaping her normally impassive façade. "I can't exactly tell how I could possibly remember the steps, as I don't recall learning them in the first place, but I'm most definitely not complaining."

"I know how you learned," I grinned.

She arched a brow at me, silently inviting me to go on. I jerked my thumb towards my parents. "My dad taught you, in Camelot."

Regina wrinkled her nose in disgust at the information, but kept unwelcomed comments to herself.

We stayed there for a little while, silently watching as everyone else seemed to have a good time. On one corner of the room I spotted Mr. Gold eyeing Belle as she danced with her father and, afterwards, a tall man that I didn't recognize. Considering the look on her former husband's face, he must have been more than a simple friend; I found myself evilly pleased by the imp's misfortune – and, honestly, I couldn't bring myself to feel guilty about it.

After the second song had finished, I saw my mother curtsey as my father bowed – both accompanying the gesture with an exaggerated, but sadly non-ironic flourish – and look around, searching for someone; they would have seen me, if Regina hadn't promptly grabbed my hand, dragged me out of the conference room and pushed me into an empty one, just down the hallway.

"Thank you for that," I let out, slightly startled by the unexpected change of location. Looking around, I took in my surroundings.

Fairly small and plainly decorated, I recognized what had normally been the meeting room: a large, rectangular table was settled in the middle of the area, surrounded by uncomfortable seats that I, what with being Sheriff and all, had had to suffer during those infernally boring monthly meetings with the Mayor and several other financially and legally influential people. At the moment, however, it also harbored the dozens of chairs missing from the conference hall, stacked on top of each other and clustered along the perimeter of the room, against the wall, functioning as an improvised storage room.

The constricting space was barely enough for Regina and I to take a few steps and walk around the mahogany table, but that forced closeness wasn't much of a problem. During the past few weeks, our concept of personal space had significantly mutated, and we were now accustomed to having it 'violated' by the other person; funnily enough, I didn't mind in the slightest. Despite generally being loath to let people that close to me, I had never felt more comfortable than when Regina was.

"No need for gratitude, dear," she retorted, after closing the door and interrupting my train of thoughts. "You would have ended up being forced to dance with your father, and I wouldn't wish such fate upon anyone. I might have been Evil, once, but I'm most certainly not anymore."

I frowned at the intricacy of the insult, although it wasn't unlikely to hear such complex comments from Regina. However, what titillated my attention was the selflessness of what she had done – saving me from the horrible fate of dancing with my parents, entirely out of sincere concern for my well-being.

"It was thoughtful," I insisted. " _Thoughtfulness_  and  _Regina_  are usually all but polar opposites. I wasn't prepared for this."

"Oh, don't flatter yourself. It wasn't being thoughtful in the slightest," she retorted, her denial sounding more aimed towards herself, rather than me. "I simply refused to witness the atrocious, if not even pitiful, sight of you stumbling over your father's feet, each and every one of your steps accompanied by a childish complaint… Not alike your usual behavior, I might add; only, a hundred times worse."

I smirked at her reply, both insulting in that oh-so-very  _Regina_  way, and defensive at the same time.

I shot back a confident sneer, slowly making my way towards her. There wasn't much room for maneuver; nonetheless, I managed to wiggle my way around a few chairs and press my body against Regina's, entrapping her between myself and the door. The thin fabric of our dresses was frustratingly teasing, letting us feel  _everything_  that was underneath, yet not remotely enough to be satisfying in the slightest.

Regina bowed her head, brushing the tip of her nose and her parted lips against the bare skin of my shoulder, our magic sending thrilling chills throughout my entire body.

"I think," I managed to breathe out, gently pulling at her hair to make her look at me, "that you're full of shit, Your Majesty."

She glared at me for a second, a flash of defiance clouding her brown eyes, and before I could even process what was happening, one of her hands was grasping and pulling my hair, the other one possessively squeezing my butt, and her mouth was on my own, aggressive and dominant and  _so. Unbelievably. Sexy._

I kissed her back with the same vehemence, one of my legs finding its way in between hers – which, awkwardly enough, resulted in us grinding against the silk fabric of our gowns, seeking for a friction that we were inevitably denied.

We were both panting with anticipation, but it wasn't long before we realized those dresses were the most unpractical pieces of clothing we could choose, to have a quickie against the wall; with a final, hard nib at my bottom lip, Regina interrupted the kiss, her eyes meeting mine in a way that was, somehow, infinitely more intimate than the heated moment we had just shared. I knew for a fact that her dilated pupils were but a mirror of my own ones, the lust that flushed her cheeks reflecting the passion that had ignited my body.

Without thinking about it, I looped my arms around her neck and just  _hugged_  her, relishing in the feeling of her firm grip around my waist and the small, satisfied sigh that escaped her lips and made my skin tingle.

She was leaving small, feathery pecks on my neck, firing up the swarm of butterflies that, by then, had settled in my stomach, when the room suddenly went dark and the music from the dance hall abruptly stopped, a thick, distressed chattering replacing the laughter and peaceful conversation from earlier.

The lights had gone out. It would have been a positive event, granting everyone else a distraction and us more time to properly take our dresses off, hadn't I been the Sheriff. I let out an annoyed grunt, dreading the realization that, as such, I had to ensure the well-being of the citizens; which, in this case, consisted in calming everyone down and checking the electric panel. So I gave Regina one last kiss and let my lips linger upon hers for longer than normal, a silent promise that I would be back soon, and walked out of the room, the clicking of my heels echoing in the empty hallway.

I felt, rather than see, everyone turn their head my way as I burst into the ballroom, my presence given away by the sound of the doors slamming open; thankfully, my entrance also led to the complaints and grumbling to cease, allowing me to speak up.

"Everyone, listen to me," I announced, loud and clear. "This is nothing but a simple blackout; there's no need to panic whatsoever. I'll take a look at the switchboard myself, and the lights will be back on as soon as I figure out the problem. Just…  _nobody freak out_ , please!"

That said, I turned around, a stifled murmuring increasing in volume as I started to walk back out. My father's voice, however, made me stop.

"Emma!" he called out. "I'll go check the electric panel: you don't know where it is and, well, you don't know a thing about electricity. No offense."

"None taken… But how do  _you_  know anything about it? You've been in a coma for almost three decades. Did Dr. Whale teach you how to turn the power back on, just in case the machines that were keeping you alive suddenly shut down?"

"Ha ha. Very funny," he replied, and I swear I  _felt_  him roll his eyes. "Actually, your mother taught me, but I have no idea where she's gone."

"Eh, she's probably crying her eyes out because her precious party is ruined. She'll get over it."

He gave a small chuckle and left, and I followed him out the door, going back to the other room as he headed the opposite way.

"Well, that didn't take long at all," I heard, as soon as I stepped inside. "I'm surprised your mother didn't wreak all kinds of havoc, considering just how dedicated she was to organize this gathering."

I didn't retort at Regina's provocation, too disappointed for the abrupt interruption of our  _moment_  to be in the mood for a bicker.

I wasn't exactly aware of where she was, but being deprived of my sight, all of my other senses seemed to have been enhanced – my magic being one of them. I felt the skin of my left arm prickle, a silent clue as to where Regina was. I followed my instincts and soon enough she had reached out for me, her arms wrapping possessively around me; and I knew I wasn't the only one who had been disappointed by the interruption.

I leaned into her, resting my head on her shoulder and breathing in her scent, the natural trace of  _Regina_  only partially masked by the perfume she had put on for the occasion. I reflectively closed my eyes to better delight in the moment, although the difference was minimal: I couldn't see a thing either way.

What followed next happened in rapid succession, leaving me confused as ever.

The first thing I noticed was a change in Regina's posture: from relaxed and peaceful, it had turned into tense and on edge, worrying me by extension.

Then she turned us around, exchanging our positions so that I was now standing against the table and she had her back to the rest of the hall.

The faintest of gasps escaped her lips, right as the lights snapped back on. I only caught a fleeting glimpse of my mother falling to the floor behind her, and I didn't immediately register the clunk of metal against the marble tiles; both of those information had been entirely eclipsed by Regina collapsing against me, a last, faint breath exhaled as her watery eyes found mine, right before rolling to the back of her head and shutting close.

I wrapped my arms around her to hold her, and my hands covered in the warm, red liquid erupting from her back.


	19. Emma - Guarded

I had no idea what I was doing.

Fueled by adrenaline ad guided by instinct, I only worried about controlling my fear, whilst my body automatically took care of everything else.

As soon as my brain had processed what had happened, everything seemed to proceed in slow-motion: I found myself pressing my hands hard against the wound on Regina's back, my sole care being to reduce the bleeding as much as possible, using my magic to heal the injury and cursing myself for being so goddamn slow at doing so. All the while, I managed to teleport us to the hospital – once again, acting completely irrationally, relying on my guts and not thinking at all. The only working slice of consciousness left inside my mind, thankfully, had the common sense of poofing my mother there as well, and it quickly put together the pieces of information it had gathered during that mayhem, allowing me to explain to the doctors what exactly had occurred.

"Regina has been stabbed with that knife right beside Snow," I explained, registering one of the nurses' motion to grab the weapon and carefully seal it away, whilst another checked on my mother's state. "I believe it was cursed, because I'm having a really tough time stopping the bleeding, my magic doesn't seem to work as quickly as it should. I'll get in the operation room – don't you even  _dare_  tell me I can't! – and I sure hope one of you has the good sense of calling Dr. Whale and explaining him what happened. He should still be at Town Hall. If my son hears any of what happened, I'll take it out on every single one of you."

That said, I hopped onto the same stretcher as Regina and put all my effort and concentration into trying to mend the wound, faint white smoke swirling around my bloodstained hands, while some of the nurses and doctors prepped for the surgery and led us into the operation room.

I had even less an idea what I was doing next. I merely followed the instructions the surgeons calmly ordered me, only fleetingly knowing what was happening. I was glad that, over the few years after the first curse had been broken, they had gotten used to collaborating with magical users at performing their medical procedures. If they hadn't, Regina would've probably ended up in even worse conditions than she already was. I was less glad that, to operate, they had to tear Regina's dress, exposing way too much skin for my liking. Looking back at that moment, I do realize just how stupidly inappropriate it was for me to think that: her life was in danger, yet I worried about doctors seeing her underwear. Then again, better to focus on that than the now exposed, open wound.

After an hour and a half of being under the knife – Dr. Whale's appearance surely helped speed up the process – Regina had been dismissed, her injury finally sutured. My irrational thoughts disappeared as soon as the rush of adrenaline wore over, stress and distress flooding me like a tidal wave, accompanied by sudden realization and an incredible amount of weariness. It took great self-control not to puke all over the hospital floors and drag myself behind the nurses and the stretcher where Regina laid still, instead.

They gently lifted her up, moving her onto a hospital bed. They said something about her waking up in a few hours, the current sleeping state due to the shock of losing such a copious amount of blood and the anesthetics they had had to put her under; but I didn't pay attention. My eyes were fixed onto Regina's face: the remainders of her make-up still lingered around her eyes, evident despite the cleaning process she had been put through to wash away the blood. She looked young. Defenseless. It was my intention to keep watch until she woke up; no matter how exhausted I was.

I sat next to the bed, on a recliner that was all bumpy and, likely, the most uncomfortable piece of furniture of all the realms; but that was the last of my concerns, at the moment. Positioning the chair so that I would be facing Regina, I took a seat and started to carefully observe her features, taking in every detail – as if I hadn't already learned up to the smallest, beautiful one by heart – and hoping for a sign that she was waking up.

As I patiently waited, I tried to organize my mind and desperately make sense of why my mother would ever stab Regina. I was positive the knife she used had been cursed, but where would she ever get such a weapon? Besides Regina and I, the only people able to use magic were the fairies, Zelena and…

I froze.

_Gold_.

Of course he would be behind this. How did I not see it earlier? How could I have been so reckless?! That night, when he stopped by the mansion and tried to make a deal with me…

* * *

_"What do you want, Gold?"_

" _Oh, by now you should know there's only one thing I could possibly want from you, Miss Swan."_

" _I have no intention of making a deal with you. Now, if you don't mind…"_

" _Yeah, but – see, you're going to want to hear my offer, dearie. That parcel you received? I need it."_

" _And what would you do for me?"_

" _I will leave our dear Mayor alone."_

* * *

... Of course. At the time, I thought he was referring to Regina, and did my best to keep  _her_  safe… He wasn't, though.  _Our dear Mayor_ …

_Mom_.

Mom, who had been taking care of mayoral duties while Regina couldn't.

Gold had been, somehow, controlling her for the past six days or so. He couldn't have taken her heart: half of it was in my father's chest, and he hadn't been acting off lately. It must've been a potion or a spell…

I was so engrossed with my reflections and my worry for Regina that I hadn't noticed we weren't alone in the room until someone spoke up.

"She will be fine. You don't need to stay," Ruby said, startling me out of my thoughts. I didn't bother look at her, not wanting to risk missing the moment Regina would come out of sedation.

"Dorothy was going to be fine too, but you stayed with her anyway. How is this any different?" My words were blunt and devoid of emotions. I was drained, I was worried and I was desperately trying not to think – without, unsurprisingly, any success.

The accident had inevitably made me take into consideration the option of losing Regina again, this time in a more final, definitive way. That possibility had torn me apart; even more so than the first time, understandably. But it had also made me realize just how dependent of her I had grown, and how desperately I didn't want her to die. And not only because she was my son's other mother; not only because she had become family; not only because, for the second time, I hadn't had the chance to say goodbye. There was so much business still left unfinished – bringing back her memories was just the tip of the iceberg – so many words unspoken, so many thoughts unshared.

"I'm in love with Dorothy," Ruby explained matter-of-factly, as if it were the most obvious reason why she would do such thing; and, honestly, it was. It didn't surprise me in the slightest – it was so clear that they were in love. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the fond smile Dorothy, still compelled to rest, with an IV slowly dripping right beside her, was giving Ruby.

But my friend's words, despite innocent and harmless, hit me like a thousand pound anvil that landed right on my chest and violently thrust the air out of my lungs. I felt heavy, constricted, as if those three and a half years of utter repression had come crushing down, pinning me to the floor and to the mockingly grinning, wicked pillars of 'truth' – one I had ignored for way too long of a time.

My eyes glossed over as realization washed over me. Small droplets of water trailed down my face, melting my already-ruined make-up and getting lost between loose blond curls and blood-stained satin. They weren't solely due to sadness, nor happiness, nor fear; likely, a combination of the three, which resulted in a way-too-overwhelming flood of emotions, all at once.

Never would I have believed my next words to leave my mouth. In a breath, a whisper so quiet Ruby wouldn't have caught it, hadn't she had supernatural powers, I let out the pivotal sentence that, ultimately, was going to change my life forever.

"And I'm in love with Regina."

A heavy silence followed, only occasionally interrupted by one of the small sobs I couldn't manage to suppress. However, although Ruby's lack of snarky comments aroused my curiosity, I didn't dare taking my eyes off of Regina. Not that I needed to: I could sense the cocky, satisfied grin on Ruby's face, proof that she had known for far longer than myself what feelings I held for Regina. I bet she had started the whole discussion just in order to make me admit to them, the sneaky little shit.

As the silence dragged on, the need to fill it grew bigger and bigger inside me, as well as an intense will to move the subject onto something else – to realize there was a huge-ass elephant in the room was one thing; to openly discuss it, however, was a whole other story.

So I decided to distract her. "Rubes," I called her. I imagined she looked up at me, but I didn't reciprocate the stare. "Would you do me a favor?"

"Shoot," she replied then, helpful as always.

"My mother's here too. She passed out a few hours ago, but I've been with Regina the whole time and haven't heard from her. Would you please go check on her? See how she's doing, if they've sent her home or called my father…" My voice trailed off.

"Course. I'll be back in a sec." The second part of the sentence was quieter, the tone sweeter; I didn't need to see her, to know she was addressing Dorothy.

I heard her leave, and the room fell, once again, into complete silence. Dorothy didn't seem like the invasive or chatty type, and, to be honest, I was glad. I wasn't in the mood for making small talk, and at the moment, dealing with my feelings and finally allowing myself to embrace them was necessary.

_I was in love with Regina Mills_.

The irony of it was mockingly obvious: I had fallen for the woman who had spent most of her life on a mission to destroy my parents' happy ending; she was part of the reason why I had been an orphan for the past three decades; she was the adoptive mother of my son, and technically my step-grandmother. The odds of us 'finding each other' (as my parents would so schmaltzily put it) had been pretty much inexistent – what with her living in another world and being a good thirty years older than me. Yet, here we were… or at least,  _I was_.

Another handful of panic settled inside my stomach, this time due to an entirely different reason than before: Regina didn't love me back.

I wasn't being coy, I wasn't trying to ready myself for the  _possibility_  of her not returning my emotions. I was simply stating a fact, real as the sun and the hair on Leroy's back. Because Regina and I had kissed somewhere around a thousand times, up to that moment; and if she had loved me back, at least one of those kisses would have broken her curse.

It was laughable, really.

Because  _of course_  I had to fall in love with the one person, in this town, that was not only just as emotionally fucked up as me, but also the most unlikely to reciprocate my feelings.

And if life wasn't the biggest bitch, then the pounding organ in my chest was definitely the biggest idiot.

But, honestly? I was kind of used to it. Used to being let down, used to people not loving me. As I said, I had been an orphan; from a very young age I had accepted that no one was ever going to care about me. It was the reason why falling in love with Neal had been so easy: for the first time in my life, I felt like someone finally gave a shit. And then, of course, he broke my heart, and I was back to square one – only, with double the amount of trust issues. After that, allowing people behind the walls I had put so much effort into building had not been an option: it took a lot of convincing, a lot of hugging and a lot of pushing before I finally accepted Henry, Snow and David, and especially Hook inside my life.

Regina, however… She wasn't bonded to me by blood, like my son or my parents, and she wasn't basically persecuting me to get in my pants like Hook. There was no material reason for me to love her, and yet there I was – there  _I had been_ , for the past  _three and a half years_ , slowly but surely falling… and now I had hit the bottom of the precipice, and it hurt like hell. At the beginning of our relationship, all those years ago, when fighting was the highlight of our day, I used to think that Regina was going to be the death of me.

Man, was I right.

But despite all of that, or maybe  _because_  of it, I was in love with her, and hurting had never felt so good.

I snorted a small, teary chortle, shaking my head at my heart's poor choices.  _Jeez_ , I was becoming a the main character of the lamest romantic comedy in the world.

Ruby chose that moment to re-enter the room, her silent footsteps revealing her identity even though I had my back at her, and another set of stealthy strides in tow. Initially I stiffened, afraid it might be my mother – and God knew I wasn't letting her anywhere near Regina until I was absolutely sure she wasn't under Gold's control anymore – but then my dad's voice broke the silence, and I quietly breathed out a sigh of relief.

"I brought you some coffee," he said as Ruby went back to her girlfriend. He walked around my chair so that he could see me. I didn't look up, keeping my gaze steady on Regina.

"Thanks," I muttered anyway, grateful for the caffeine. I tangled my fingers around the cup, reveling in its warmth and taking a soft sniff at its comforting smell. "How's mom?"

"She's doing okay. Well, at least physically – she's woken up, but she doesn't say a word and stares blankly ahead from her cocoon on her hospital bed. Kinda reminds me of when she killed Cora."

"This wasn't her fault. She was under a spell," I shot back immediately, revealing my intuitions. I knew my mom would react along those lines, once the enchantment on her had finally worn off, and I needed her to know I wasn't blaming her. "About five or six days ago, Gold paid us a visit at the mansion. He said that if I gave him what he wanted, he wouldn't do anything to 'the Mayor'. At the time I thought he was talking about Regina, and I had promised myself that I would do my best to keep the imp away from her… When he didn't do anything, I thought – and it was so stupid of me, so goddamn dumb! – that maybe he had just dropped it and let it go… It didn't even cross my mind that he might do something to  _mom_ , since she's the Mayor now. This is all my fault… again."

For the second time, tears welled up in my eyes, but I didn't allow them to fall. I clenched my jaw and gently held Regina's wrist in my hand, the reaction of our magic present as always, although fainter than usual, and the soft and rhythmic pulsating of her heart soothed my soul just like it did every time we slept together.

"I think the only person that should be blamed here is Gold," dad retorted, as he walked closer to me and started stroking my hair. "You didn't do this, baby girl. And I know that, if you're anything like your mother, these are all but empty words… But if you don't want to be strong for yourself, at least do it for Henry. He needs his moms, he can't lose one of them because of a coma, and the other one because she's wallowing in self-blame."

He was right, of course. At my son's name, my heart fluttered a little in my chest, and a warmth that had nothing to do with the coffee I had been sipping on spread throughout my entire body.

"Where is he?" I asked, already dreading the answer. If he was at the hospital and knew what had occurred, he had to be completely devastated – not to mention, just straight-up terrified.

"I asked Granny to keep an eye on him and Neal until I was back. I didn't want him to freak out just yet, so I didn't tell him that his mothers and his grandmother had disappeared and all I had managed to find was a room full of blood… Thank gods the hospital called me shortly after, because I was kind of about to flip out myself, you know, what with half of my family missing." He tittered. "Anyway, I was actually thinking about going to pick him and Neal up, it's getting pretty late."

"Will you bring Henry here?"

"Do you want me to?" he asked, caring.

"I don't want to lie to him. Whale said Regina's fine, she's just still knocked out from the anesthesia, and it won't be long till she'll wake up. I'm sure he can handle that."

"Alright. But honey, take it from your old man: you might want to change, first." He eloquently pointed at my clothes. I only now assimilated my conditions. It was probably a rather grim sight – a lady in a bloodstained evening gown, eyes red from both exhaustion and unshed tears, and makeup smeared all over her face. "I'll stop by the loft and grab you a pair of jeans and a hoodie."

"Thank you." I smiled softly, daring the quickest of glances up at him.

He stayed silent for a second, apparently deciding whether to tell me something or not. Eventually, he spoke. "You should go talk to your mother, you know? It might do her good."

"I'm not leaving Regina," I retorted immediately, my words leaving my mouth almost automatically. "I'll wait for her to wake up, and then I'll go."

Dad simply nodded apprehensively, and I was quite dumbfounded by him not putting up an argument. I had a feeling he had been just as aware about my feelings as Ruby had, although maybe not as openly. He turned away and walked out, the sound of his footsteps fading.

And so, I waited – for Regina to wake up, for Henry to arrive. God knew I needed them. I could hear Ruby and Dorothy's faint whispers, but I didn't pay attention to what they were saying. They did need some privacy, after all, and given the lack of walls to separate them from me, not being nosy was the least I could do.

I kept sipping on my coffee, zoning out and thinking about nothing. I didn't have the moral strength to plan my revenge against the Dark One, nor for another heart-to-heart convo with myself; after all, it wouldn't do me any good – especially the latter. Not thinking about my feelings was the best approach I could take, considering the circumstances: I wasn't going to tell Regina, of course. I didn't want to scare her away from our 'kinda-friends with benefits' relationship, in order to avoid any awkwardness; hence, there was no reason for me to address them at all.

Yeah, I was in love with Regina.  _Big deal_. I could control myself! The fact that I had accepted my feelings didn't mean they were going to affect me, like, at all. I wasn't going to act differently just because of that.

Right?

Right.

I was so lost in my internal debate, my eyes out of focus and fixed on Regina's face, that I jumped in surprise when the softest of hands gently caressed my own, still wrapped around Regina's wrist.

I quickly snapped out of my reverie, and the amount of relief and joy –  _and fucking love, goddammit!_  – that invaded me at the sight of her own eyes fluttering open and blinking at the bright lights on the ceiling, had me smiling from ear to ear.

"Hey," I murmured, scooting forward on the chair until my butt was barely touching it to mindlessly stroke her cheek.

She reflectively leaned into my touch, the faintest of smiles creeping onto her own lips, her glassy eyes revealing she was still in a haze.

"Hey," she whispered back, her sight finally focusing, only to get lost in my own, before a confused frown distorted her expression. "What happened?"

"You… got injured," I hesitated, deciding it would be best to ease her into the occurrences of the night. "How are you feeling? Are you in pain?"

She carefully shook her head. "I feel…" She struggled to find the right word. "Heavy. Moving is hard. My back is completely numb."

I let out a relieved chuckle. "Yeah, it's the effects of the anesthesia. You're probably going to puke yellow stuff in a bit." I paused for a second to enjoy the horrified expression my words had provoked. I then made an overly-dramatic, disgusted grimace. "Ugh, and your breath smells like a dying rat!"

I knew I was going to regret it. Trust me,  _I knew_. But her reaction was priceless, and it was so, completely worth it.

She dropped her jaw, and for a second a flash of insecurity – such an apparently foreign concept, when talking about the confident former Queen and Mayor – crossed her face, before shifting to an angry and offended glare.

"Take it back," she ordered, her nostrils flaring dangerously, even after surgery.

"And why would I do that?" I retorted, defiant. "I'm also quite interested in how big the vein on your forehead has gotten. You sure it doesn't have a mind of its own? Maybe we should name it. How about… Gertrude?"

My own grin faltered a bit, at the sight of the evil smirk she then sent my way.

"Very well, Miss Swan," she said, receding to formalities, "guess who's not getting laid for the next month?"

I distinctly felt my face fall at her words, any trace of my previous hilarity now completely erased.

I narrowed my eyes. " _You wouldn't._ "

"On the contrary, dear: I very much would. I would say you  _had it coming_ , but that wouldn't be such an appropriate choice of words, now, would it?"

I kept gaping at her. I was left completely speechless.  _This woman!_

A soft giggle from the other side of the room had me turn around to see the fool who had the courage of mocking me for my disgrace. I sent a death glare at Dorothy, who was raising a hand to her mouth as a futile attempt to hide her hilarity. Next to her, however, Ruby couldn't have been reacting more differently: she was displaying the same flabbergasted expression I had been, although due to an entirely different reason.

"You two have  _sex_?!" she exclaimed, her eyes frantically darting back and forth between Regina and I.

"Actually, Miss Lucas, I imagine you could say we  _used to_  have sex," Regina retorted, a wicked grin slowly taking over her mouth.

"Why are you so smug about this?!" I found myself asking. "You're in this forced abstinence just as much as me!"

"Indeed. However, unlike you, I'm not going to miss out on much-" Regina's reply was interrupted by the door swinging open and Henry storming inside the room, my father following closely behind. Their intervention brought the heaviness of the situation back, erasing the easiness Regina's awakening – and our bickering – had encouraged.

"Hey kid," I said carefully. I shot a look at my father – Henry wasn't supposed to worry, still here he was – and he shrugged helplessly in response. "How 'bout you calm down a bit, huh?"

Henry gawked at me, mouth agape, and took in my appearance. I shut my eyes, impressed by just how forgetful I could be. Of course he wasn't going to chill out, when one of his mothers laid on a hospital bed and the other one looked like she came straight out of a horror movie.

"You want me to calm down? Really?"

"Kid, it's okay. We're both fine. I'm going to get changed in a bit and your mom is just tired…"

"And what the hell happened?!"

" _Language!_ " three voices snapped at the same time. Henry looked helplessly between David, Regina and I, rolling his eyes in a very 'come-on-I'm-a-teenager-now' way.

"Anyway," I began, unsure how to explain everything that had occurred without traumatizing him. I moved my chair so that I could face him, my hand only now moving from Regina's wrist, detangling from her grip. I was surprised when I felt her fingers wrap around the back of my arm, and I assumed Regina needed the safety of that touch, the confirmation that I was there. I tried not to think about the warmth that spread through me, at that knowledge. "Tonight… your mom and I, we weren't exactly having a great time, at the ball… so we hid in a different room to stay away from all the celebration. You know, it really wasn't our thing.

"Then the lights went out, and when I went back to that room I didn't notice your grandma was there too… And, mind you, I'm sure she was under some sort of enchantment that Mr. Gold cast on her, because she… she had a knife… and stabbed your mother in the back – literally." I noticed his body stiffen at my words, but I didn't stop my narration. "Then she fainted, and I managed to poof us all here. I went into surgery with your mom to help with my magic, and she's just woken up from the anesthesia. Your grandma's fine, too – actually, I was going to get changed now and have a talk with her."

As I finished the explanation, I looked back at Regina, who was intensely returning my gaze, studying my face with a focused expression. She seemed lost in her own thoughts, so she didn't reply to my questioning stare, and I turned back to our son. I blamed it on the painkillers that probably hadn't completely worn off.

"Stay here with your mother while I'm gone, alright? I'll be back in a few minutes." I moved from my seat, and I was startled as I felt Regina's grip around my arm tighten, her face overtaken by fear as I glanced at her. I sat on the edge of the bed right next to her, leaning closer and talking softly, so that the moment would only be ours.

"I'm not going anywhere," I murmured, putting as much strength and truthfulness in that small sentence as I could, aware those words were the exact ones she had whispered to me the previous night. Our gazes were tangled, the bond that had formed between us almost tangible. She held her eyes on mine for a few seconds more, before lowering them with a small nod, an almost imperceptible sigh leaving her lips as I finally stood up.

I felt bad for leaving her already, but I would be back as quickly as I could: my mom needed me, and I couldn't just ignore that.

Once I had put on some clean clothes and washed my face, feeling instantly refreshed but still jaded, I made my way to mom's room.

I found her in the exact position dad had described earlier. She didn't notice my presence until I sat down on her bed.

"Mom?" I called, almost sheepishly. I hated how desperate I sounded, how vulnerable I felt and appeared: although I hadn't noticed earlier, during my time in the other room I had been too focused on Regina to realize just how distressed and upset I actually was. Now, seeing my mother in that state of utter alienation, I couldn't help the weaknesses that took over me.

She focused on me, brows furrowed as she took in the despair I knew I was showing. She slowly sat up, her motherly instincts overpowering her own problems. She brought a hand up to my hair, stroking them lovingly, before speaking up.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," she confessed with an empty voice that troubled me even more than her words.

"Don't be," I retorted, meaning to interrupt her self-accusation before it got out of hand. "This wasn't your fault. It was Gold's, it was mine – I should've known better than to underestimate the imp. I'm the one who should apologize, not you. Now enough with the self-pity, there are too many people who need you to be strong."

She looked away, once again zoning out. "It was supposed to be you," she let out after a second.

"What do you mean?"

"He wanted me to hurt  _you_. I was aiming at you, I was supposed to stab you, but Regina accidentally got in the way." Her voice cracked. "I was there, knife in hand, my mind completely blank, as I moved to stab my own daughter."

Tears were now freely falling down her face, tracing a pattern of makeup on her pale skin. My sympathy for her grew.

"You couldn't stop. You were controlled by magic, you couldn't have possibly done anything to free yourself. No one, in your position, could have. I don't blame you, mom, and I'm sure Regina doesn't either."

She finally looked up, searching for any trace of a lie in my eyes; but I couldn't have been more sincere. I tried to channel my certainty through my eyes, wanting it to reach her. A bit of warmth retook its place on my mother's demeanor as it eventually hit her.

"How did Gold do it?" I asked then, forcing my way through that crack that I had opened in her newly-built walls.

She didn't need further clarification to know exactly what I was referring to. "A few days ago I found a small box on my desk at Town Hall, with a beautiful necklace inside. I thought it was a surprise from your father, or maybe a present from my employees; but I knew something was off the moment I wore it. It was as if my soul had left my body and was now watching helplessly from a close distance while someone else controlled me. No matter how desperately I fought it, nothing seemed to work. He wanted me to gather as much information about that jewelry box you received as possible… He wanted it, he made me look for it. That's why your room was upside down, when you came over for dinner yesterday.

"I don't know much about why he- why he wanted me to hurt you, it's not like I knew his intentions; I simply followed his orders, that's it. I grabbed a kitchen knife, murmured an incantation I didn't know the meaning of, and waited for the right moment to hit you. As soon as the knife touched Regina, its power faded away and I was back, but I felt so drained that I guess I passed out. The necklace wasn't there anymore, when I woke up."

"Well, I guess that explains why you've been acting so off, recently… I should've noticed. I should've thought about it. Since you and dad share the same heart and Gold couldn't use that to control you, I just assumed you weren't in any real danger – not just now, but ever since Regina split your heart in half. I should have known better."

I dropped my head onto my hands, hiding my face from the sympathetic look that had now replaced mom's guilty one. I let out an unamused chortle as I realized just how alike we were – both ready to cradle in self-accusation, yet forgetting our own issues to comfort the ones we loved. Always putting others first, Charming as that may be.

She didn't question my sudden hilarity, knowing better than to push me to talk; so I just leaned into her hug and stayed there, silently revealing how much I needed my mom and hoping that her maternal instincts would be enough, at least for now, to repel the depression that was haunting her.

There still was an issue I didn't quite know how to face, afraid it would lead mom to another crisis; but her next words thankfully saved me from the burden of bringing it up myself.

"There's nothing more I would want, now, than to go and apologize to Regina," she said, continuing promptly as she felt me stiffen, "but I don't really trust myself, at the moment, and I'm sure you don't either. I don't want to risk losing control again. We've underestimated Gold once, we can't allow ourselves to think this is all over. Maybe his spell is still active, maybe he can still bend me to his will somehow… We can't take that risk."

I nodded, agreeing completely with her words. "I'll tell her you're sorry. Not that it would change anything, considering your history and her infamous commitment to holding a grudge… But it's a start."

A light chuckle erupted from her lips, and my chest suddenly stopped feeling quite so heavy. I found myself smiling in return, and after one last squeeze and a kiss on the cheek that surprised me just as much as her, I left my mother's room to go back to Regina's.

I found Henry engaged in a conversation with my father, clearly meant to fill the otherwise uncomfortable silence; Regina, however, wasn't participating in it, not even making an effort to act like she was listening to them. She seemed lost in her thoughts, but her head snapped up as soon as I entered the room and I read the most desperate of needs in her eyes. I was taking a seat on the mattress in the blink of an eye, my hand slipping protectively in the one she was offering me, and I could almost feel her relief as she cherished the familiar contact of our skin, the tingle we automatically created.

Her eyes never left mine, the shadow that had been over them before I made myself known already vanished. I knew we were drawing attention, but it was the last of my worries, at the moment. I only vaguely remember hearing my father and Henry say goodbye, my only priority now being the woman that had so effortlessly stolen my heart.


	20. Emma - Kissed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all aren't ready.

"Ow! OW! Set me down  _gently_!" Regina snapped as I helped her onto her bed, careful not to press too hard onto the recently-healed wound on her back. She had finally been released from the hospital, after five whole hours of waiting for a great amount of  _nothing_  to happen (Whale wanted to make sure her values were completely stable before releasing her), and we had just gotten to the mansion – after a long,  _long_  car ride. No matter how many amnesias Regina went through, she would never miss an occasion to insult my beloved beetle.

"Oh, come on, stop whining! You should be thanking me. And fuck Whale who didn't want me to just teleport you up here…"

Still complaining under my breath about the instructions the doctor gave me, I made a quick stop to the en-suite, filling the cup Regina kept on her nightstand with fresh water, before joining her on her bed and sitting at the foot of it.

Oddly enough, now that I had come to terms with my feelings for her and I knew for a fact that she was mentally and physically stable, I had become much more sensitive and, especially, reluctant, to any form of physical contact with her. When I had had to hold her by her waist in order to help her up the stairs, I thought the blush that had my face burning up would never fade away; every time our hands accidentally brushed against each other, or she would innocently squeeze my arm, I found myself jerking away from the touch, moving as far away from Regina as possible and justifying my actions with the most pathetic excuses in the world.

I was aware I was doing it purely out of fear. I was afraid Regina would suddenly realize I was in love with her and consequently push me away (again, as I realized earlier, her returning my feelings wasn't even remotely an option). It was a risky situation: I didn't want her running away from me, both emotionally and physically. The fact that her returning to New York was completely plausible had me even more concerned. However, I did realize that, ultimately, I was pushing her away in order to avoid her doing the exact same thing, so pursuing that behavior wasn't a good solution, either.

I was staring blankly at the cup Regina had just sipped from, and, right on cue, it was her hand on mine that pulled me out of my reverie, crowning my train of thoughts with their practical demonstration. As anticipated, I reflexively jolted away from her touch, promptly feigning a particularly painful paper cut as the reason behind my action. The stare she gave me in response was one of absolute skepticism, yet she didn't comment on the matter, momentarily letting it slide – for which I couldn't be more thankful.

"So," I began, "I know my magic restored most of your health values and saved you from the bother of a transfusion despite the amount of blood you lost, but Dr. Whale recommended you stay in bed and rest for the next few days. You'll be back out and about by Sunday; until then, you're not moving from here."

"According to what you told me about that joke of a scientist, I wouldn't deem it unlikely for this forced restraint to be his own personal revenge against me," Regina commented, and I couldn't find a good enough counterargument. Whale had never seemed to care much about Regina's well-being – hell, he despised the woman. However, I wasn't one to look a given horse in the mouth; if he had helped her, maybe it meant he was over whatever feud had existed between the two.

"It's not gonna be  _that_  bad," I reassured her. "It's only for two days, anyway. I'll make sure you have everything you need and something to do… Maybe you could read a book, or watch a movie on your laptop…"

"Oh, I know exactly what I would like to do, right now…" she said slowly, her eyes and her tone failing to conceal her hunger. "Or, should I say?,  _who_ … Too bad you've been such a bad girl, earlier. I imagine you'll have to redeem yourself…"

My breath hitched at her words. I forcefully swallowed the lump in my throat and kept my eyes glued to hers, obliging my gaze not to drop to her lips. I tenaciously ignored the throbbing that had immediately started between my legs, raising from my position to escape the room and, consequently, the sexual tension building between us.

"Sorry- We can't- I- You're too weak, you need to rest," I spluttered, only to quickly make a run for the door. I couldn't stop myself from looking back at Regina, though, and the contemplative appraisal displayed on her features hinted me that she had noticed my unconventional behavior.  _Great. Good job, Swan_.

I sprinted down the stairs, needing to get as far away from Regina as possible. I hadn't anticipated that, being by myself, the gravity of what happened would drop onto me, draining me. After the rush of adrenaline had worn over, hours earlier, the only thing that had kept me going had been pure force of will. Now, even that was leaving me, taking the shape of small droplets of sweat on my skin. I leaned against the wall for stability, aware that my legs alone wouldn't be able to keep me upright. I took a deep breath, desperate in my struggle to keep some composure; it came out shaky and airy, accompanied by a couple of tearless sobs. I slid down the immaculate wall and curled up, hugging my bent legs as if to physically hold myself together.

There had been so much blood… So much sorrow… The fear that Regina would never wake up had been almost bodily painful. Maybe it was the large amount of magic I had been shedding, and the weariness it had left throughout my body; but I knew that, on some level, the force that had been clutching my chest in the operation room was but utter terror.

After that, there had been so much realization.

I was in love. When had that ever gone well for me? Hell, even for Regina. I had believed my heart to be too broken to be able to fall for someone again. In a way, it had been a reassuring thought: there was no risk for it to get shattered yet another time. Instead, here I was, feeling its cracks tearing open, an excruciating torture that would never end. Because Regina didn't love me back.  _This is so fucked up_ …

It was an unexpected buzz from my phone that pulled me out of those god-awful memories and thoughts – as if I didn't have enough of those, already. The identity of the sender helped even more.

By the time I managed to open the text, my breathing was undoubtedly more regular.

**From: Kid** _Hey, just checking in. Grandma's still a bit shook, so I'll spend the night helping gramps with her and the baby. Do you need anything?_

It didn't take much for me to understand the unspoken question lingering hidden in between those short lines: "How is mom?"

I typed in a quick reply, my shaky hands making the task aggravatingly more difficult than usual.

**To: Kid** _We're good. How're things going there? Don't leave the loft, it's pouring outside. X_

The last line was so comically unlike me that I cringed internally as I wrote it. Not that I wouldn't normally worry about my son; but it was Regina who used to make sure he wouldn't get himself into any type of dangerous situations – fairytale villains and magical mishappenings aside. I was the fun parent; she was the responsible one. It had taken the both of us a lot of fighting and a lot of hurting to finally accept precisely that: Regina had come to terms with me being Henry's mother as well, whilst I had admitted to not being reliable whatsoever, hence unable to take care of a child without someone else's help.

Henry reassured me with a quick reply, and noticing the small digits on the screen – 5 AM, damn – I established that a few hours of sleep would be a good idea. The daring thought of sleeping on the couch did cross my mind, but I knew better that to run away from my problems (wow, what a long way I had come, since first arriving in Storybrooke). After all, what I had mused on back at the hospital was still a valid thought: I had been in love with Regina for a long time already, so having finally come to terms with those feelings didn't mean everything was suddenly going to change. Besides, had I pursued the idea of sleeping on the sofa, neither Regina nor I would have been able to fall asleep. Not that I was going to, anyway… my head was far too busy to let me get some rest.

I made a quick stop to the kitchen to chug down a glass of water – a helpless attempt to soothe my nerves once and for all – before silently climbing up the stairs once again.

Regina's eyes were on me the moment I stepped in her field of vision. Although she didn't say anything, I could see the confusion from earlier still swirl behind her brown orbs. I knew she deserved an explanation, but I had been through so much already, that day; I couldn't find it in my heart to give her it, only to be pathetically rejected.

I ignored her gaze and walked in the bedroom, slowly stripping to my underwear and the tank top I had put on at the hospital, before moving to my side of the bed. I took a deep breath – which she didn't seem to catch on – and climbed in beside her.

I could feel her gaze bore into the side of my face, but I couldn't bring myself to face her; I couldn't bring myself to snuggle on top of her like I usually did.

And I couldn't stop the shaky sob that left my lungs when it was her, that wrapped her arms around my waist and rested her head on my chest, taking the same exact position I would usually fall asleep into.

"I'm so sorry," I managed to choke out, an airy whisper that got lost in brown hair.

"I know," she replied.

"That knife was supposed to hit me."

Her response wasn't as immediate, this time. She sighed, her warm breath tingling my skin. "I know."

It took me a minute to properly assimilate and digest her words. "Y-you do?"

I felt her nod against my chest. "I...  _felt_  your mother's presence, as well as that dagger's. I can't tell you what exactly took over me. It was a reflexive reaction, much like an instinct. I knew for a fact that she wanted to hurt you, and there was not a chance that I would simply stand there on the side and watch. I wasn't going to let her hurt you, and if my own life was the cost of your safety, I was prepared to pay it. I was overtook by a profound need to protect you, and my life in exchange for yours seemed like a reasonable enough price."

Once again, I took my time to reply, breathing deeply to stop weeping. I had a lot on my mind, at the moment, and I needed to sort out my thoughts before continuing the conversation.

"Yeah, we… we do that a lot, you and I," I said shakily. "We've always stood up for each other; always protected one another; always saved one another. It started as a promise to Henry but, as time went by, it became a sort of unspoken vow between us. Eventually, we even ended up trusting each other, although I've let you down more times than I'd like to admit. It was never intentional, of course. To be honest, I've never wanted to hurt you, not even when we were fighting over Henry, not even when you almost killed him. I… Tonight I found out something, something about me, that has made me doubt everything I've ever done in the past… Or, at least, the reasons behind those deeds."

"What is it?"

I looked down into those big, brown eyes. There was something behind them; I couldn't put my finger on what it was exactly, but for some reason it had me think that she knew the answer to her own question already.

An answer that, however simple and obvious, I wasn't ready to share with Regina just yet.

"You should rest," I replied, then. "It's been a hell of a long night."

"I'm not leaving again," she whispered. How she knew what was actually bothering me, I couldn't tell.

"Tonight you almost did."

She held on to me tighter. "I knew you wouldn't let me."

* * *

As I had anticipated, for the first time since Regina came back to Storybrooke, I wasn't able to fall asleep. My body wanted to – trust me, it really did. 'Exhausted' didn't even begin to express just how emotionally and physically drained I felt.

Nonetheless, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get my brain to shut off. Anxiety swirled inside my stomach throughout the whole morning: I couldn't help but think about what terrible consequences my feelings could lead to. I kept picturing heart-breaking scenarios, as vivid as dreams but completely rational: I saw Neal and Killian, proof of what terrible mistake it is, to love me; I saw Regina, over and over again, at first leaving me because she didn't remember me, then because she didn't love me back, then because she did – and her love was just as cursed as mine.

Then I saw myself, old and wrinkly, during a family reunion: Henry and his wife were there, and my nephews as well, but all I could see was his other mother, and all I could think was, 'What if'…

There was no way out of it, really. Whether I told Regina how I felt for her or not, I would suffer. Because she didn't love me back – of that much I was sure: we had kissed countless times, but she was still cursed –, and because even if she did, she would be too scared to pursue anything, but especially because she  _didn't remember me_.

I sighed.

I knew Regina wasn't able to sleep well, either. Her brow kept furrowing, telling sign of uneasiness and disturbance – whether it was because she could feel I wasn't asleep, or because she knew I was devastated, I didn't know. I would leave a trail of feather-light pecks along her forehead until her expression relaxed once again, waiting for it to return to its troubled state a few minutes later and repeating the process.

I watched her sleep. I knew it was creepy, but she was too beautiful not to – even more so now that I was being true to myself. I watched her sleep and I wondered how incredibly different our lives would have been, had I realized I was in love with her three years ago, when our hearts weren't quite as broken, when our lives weren't quite as fucked up. Maybe we could have made it work. Maybe we could have been happy. Maybe the door-bell outside the mansion would have read 'Swan-Mills' by now, and there would have been a toddler sleeping in our bed, and a dog in Henry's.

But it's too late, now, and all that's left are  _maybe_ 's and  _what if_ 's…

* * *

At ten AM I got up. I couldn't bear another minute in that bed – my mind was killing me, almost as much as Regina's vicinity. I left the bedroom as silently as I could and padded to the kitchen. I felt lightheaded, unbalanced. Anyone could have told something was off just from my wobbly walk. My eyes burned from lack of sleep and unshed tears, my head hurt, my chest was clenched. I wasn't okay, that much was obvious.

My hands moved automatically, almost robotically, as I made coffee – eating was out of the question, what with my guts being all painfully knotted; whatever I got down I was sure would have come right back up. As I waited for the coffee to brew, my gaze was caught by the framed photograph resting on top of a shelf: Regina was beaming, her right hand holding the camera to take the picture while her left arm held upright a two-year-old Henry in his bathrobe.

Some of the pain left, at the sight. It's not like I had never seen the picture before; countless times I had found myself longing for a memory as happy as that one. But this time, instead of worsening my state, it healed me slightly, because I knew that, even if I were suffering for an impossible love, seeing Regina smile like that – genuinely, mindlessly – would make me happier than I could ever hope for. And knowing that I had the astounding luck of having parents, a brother, a child that would smile like that because of me, well, it made the pain all the more bearable.

I had a  _family_. All I had ever wanted and more. Even without Regina's love, I could be okay: after all, I had her as a friend, which already was extraordinary in itself…

Then my train of thought was interrupted by none other than its object, softly climbing down the stairs, and the smile I plastered on my face wasn't entirely forced.

"What's wrong?" she asked once she had entered the kitchen, a serious, concerned stare hidden behind puffy eyes.

"I couldn't sleep." I flinched at my raspy voice. "Coffee?"

She nodded. Her gaze was cast down, her eyes were missing their usual spark. She was sad. "How come you weren't able to sleep?"

"I had a lot of things on my mind," I replied. The coffee was ready, but I couldn't care less. I made my way towards her, planning on squeezing her arm or patting her shoulder to comfort her, but I found myself unable to do so. Before I could realize what was happening, she hugged me – a  _real_  hug, not dissimilar to the one we had exchanged before the blackout at the ball.

It knocked the air out of my lungs, and the butterflies in my stomach woke up. I didn't move away. I couldn't have if I had tried: I hadn't realized just how much I needed it.

There were many things I wanted to say. 'It's not your fault,' for starters. 'Forgive me for being an idiot and falling in love with my only true friend,' was also appropriate. ' _Remember me_ …'

Of course, the words that left my mouth were as out of context as they possibly could ever be.

"I saved you from a fire that Mr. Gold had set at Town Hall, once. You had the guts to complain about how I did it and didn't thank me afterwards." I let out a soft chuckle at the memory.

"After your curse broke and everyone remembered who they were and who  _you_  were, a mob of people came here at the mansion to get their revenge for what the Evil Queen had done to them. I stopped them before they could hurt you.

"Once, Gold had cast a spell on a portal to close it, in order to prevent Cora – your mother – from entering Storybrooke; however, Snow and I were going to use that portal to come back from the Enchanted Forest and, against any better judgment, you removed the spell and let us come through, essentially saving our lives.

"Then, when Pan's curse hit, you saved Henry and I by letting us leave Storybrooke, with new memories and no recollection of this place – although you saved  _me_  more than anyone else: you gave me the past that I had always wanted; you let me know what having a family truly meant. You saved me in a way that I never knew I needed.

"And then, I became the Dark One in your place.

"You understood me when no one else did; I believed in you when no one else did. Every single one of these things, I've done for  _you_. Sometimes I would pretend it was Henry who convinced me, other times I would use the excuse of 'being the Savior'; deep down I've always known the truth, although I was just as oblivious about it as you were.

"I'm telling you this because I  _need_  you, the real you, now more than ever. I need you to slap some sense into me, to pin me to reality and keep me from drowning in my mind. I need you to remember me." I broke the hug to fix my watery eyes in hers: I was desperate and hopeless, and I needed her to understand just how deeply tortured I felt. I needed her help. "Please, Regina," I whispered. "For one last time,  _please_ , _save me_."

And I saw something.

As if a veil had been removed, her eyes gained the sparkle that they had lost months ago. My heart fluttered with hope, for the first time since Regina left, and I saw that glint for what it was: recognition.

" _Em-ma_ …"A word so full of meaning escaped her lips; heavy with the memories it held and the feelings it hid, it struck me harder than anything.

Our faces were mere inches apart. My heart was beating faster than ever, because I knew what was going to happen. I knew that, if we kissed, her curse would break. I  _knew_  it, but I didn't want to  _believe_  it. I didn't want to get my hopes high only to see them tumble down.

I had never really believed I would ever see  _my_  Regina again; I think that, on some level, I was simply resigned to that fate – the fate of loving someone who wasn't there anymore.

But that light behind her eyes meant that she remembered me. The way she uttered my name meant that she loved me back. I knew these things for a fact.

So, I was an inch away from my wishes to come true, or for my heart to break.

Honestly, what more did I have to lose? It was in pieces already.

She leaned in and I closed the distance between us. A wave of energy washed over me as our lips brushed against each other, ever so slightly, for the briefest of moments.

I opened my eyes and finally, after months, I looked at  _Regina_.

Then, a whispered, " _No_ …" and a cloud of purple smoke.


	21. Regina - Kissed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's TLK from Regina's POV, as well as its consequences. This is the beginning of the end, I'm afraid... Only five more chapters to go. As always, a humongous thank you for the overwhelming feedback and I will see you soon!

When I finally woke up from that tormented sleep, it was to an empty bed. The sheets on Emma's side were still warm, so she clearly hadn't been gone for long. Nonetheless, I was overtook by a sense of inadequacy and rejection. I tried to suppress those emotions, knowing all-too-well how irrational they were: she cared a lot about me, that much was certain. Not being around me every single hour of the day wasn't supposed to disquiet me… still, it did.

Therefore, I made my way down the stairs and into the kitchen, where I knew Emma was preparing coffee – the potent, inebriating scent suggesting as much. She was already smiling at me when I entered, telltale sign that she was trying to hide her real feelings. I could tell she wasn't emotionally stable; ever since I had woken up from the sedation she had been on the verge of a breakdown. However, I wasn't going to force her into opening up to me: if she wanted my help, she would ask for it. She was free to tell me anything she needed to get off her chest, but in no way was I going to pry for her to do so.

Of course, that didn't mean I wouldn't push, just enough to remind her that I cared about her.

So, "What's wrong?" I asked. Even I could feel the concern in my voice.

She hadn't slept. Aside from her particularly rough voice and the bags under her eyes, I remembered waking up every-so-often during the night, sensing her discomfort. She would kiss me until I fell back into slumber, but that didn't change the fact that I knew she was not fine. She confirmed my suspicions, a, "I couldn't sleep," that sounded a lot like an excuse – or, maybe, just part of the truth: as if not being able to sleep was only one of the things that 'were wrong'. Surely, witnessing an attempted murder must've been hard… And yet, I didn't think that was the problem.

Not to mention that sleeping had been quite an essential component of that relationship of ours. It helped us bond, it helped me open up to Emma. Somehow, knowing that she didn't manage to rest felt as if a part of that bond had gone missing.

She offered me some coffee, and I absent-mindedly accepted, way too lost in my own worries to even care about something that trivial.

"How come you weren't able to sleep?" I inquired then.

"I had a lot of things on my mind," was her reply, confirming my hypothesis: she was, in fact, not fine. Something was bothering her, and there was only so much I could do to help. She approached me, hesitantly raising an arm; but, seeing the disarmingly tormented shadow that covered her eyes, I couldn't stop myself from helping her the only way I could.

Before she could even think about rejecting my touch – a reaction that had become increasingly more of a habit, during the past handful of hours – I threw my arms around her and held her tight, my grip both secure and comforting. I wanted her to understand the concept that I kept repeating and that she didn't seem to properly catch on: I was  _there_. I wasn't planning on going away, regardless of what could possibly happen to us.

Emma's stiff posture relaxed almost immediately. She let out an imperceptible sigh, maybe without even noticing, and melted into the embrace. She rested her chin on my shoulder and wrapped her arms around my waist, tight yet gentle. I felt my dressing gown shift as she grabbed fistfuls of it behind me and held on as if her life depended on it.

After a brief pause she talked.

She went on and on listing the times when, during the past years, we had saved each other.

It might have not seemed like much. In all honesty, it really wasn't. It was nothing but a sequence of facts that I had partaken in, yet didn't recall. Nothing special to me, nor to anyone else… but to her, they were. 'Fundamental' didn't even begin to describe just how deeply connected she was to them. And the more she talked, the more I understood: those were the few moments she had held on to, during my absence, to remind herself that I had, at some point, cared about her just as much as she cared about me. They were the reasons why she hadn't given up on me, yet: she wanted to save me for one last time… because saving me was the only way I'd be able to save her.

And her words, her eyes, even the small slices of skin that were pressed against me and had our magics prickling in a way that was more intense, deeper than usual – they triggered something inside me.

"I need you to remember me," she said. As the words left her mouth, I felt the tingle on my skin shift in intensity. It was almost as if my body had assimilated it, and now it was flowing inside of me: every inch of my being was filled with the sensation, not dissimilar to a very soft electrocution.

Only a small percentage of my attention was focused on what was happening around me. In a heartbeat, a myriad of images flowed in front of me, abstract but thoroughly clear.

There was Emma, fierce and reckless, holding a chainsaw; Emma using magic with me on a diamond-shaped trigger; Emma and I creating a lunar eclipse as if it was the easiest thing in the world; Emma with almost-white hair and red lips; Emma talking, Emma laughing, Emma kissing somebody, Emma crying. It felt almost like a stop-motion movie, with the sequence of a million pictures appearing in my mind ever-so-rapidly, and yet I didn't miss a single one of them.

Emma broke our hug to look at me in the eyes, although I wasn't seeing her properly; her face was overlapped by memories –  _my_  memories about  _her_  – that didn't seem to stop.

"Please, Regina. For one last time,  _please_ ,  _save me_."

I finally managed to focus on her. The images were still there, one after the other, but they had become nothing more than a colorful slide-show in the background.

I remembered her.

_Emma_. Hasty, sad, infuriating, loyal Emma, with her determination and recklessness and that big heart of hers that made her eyes shine brighter than a million stars.

I remembered her and I remembered  _me_ , hating her and loving her more and more every day, unintentionally and unconsciously. The hurt, the anger, the fear: all fueled by the strongest, most radical feeling I could ever envisage. It was frightening and powerful, bending me to its will.

And as I lost myself into the green pools of her soul, I kissed her, because I was in love with Emma Swan and, knowingly or not, I had always been.

A thrust of magic spread over me. That's when the memories of Emma went away and were replaced by  _everything_  else.

Especially that night, on August 26th, when I had made myself forget… and the reason why I didn't want to be woken up.

I looked at Emma's face and the deepest, most overwhelming need to get as far away from her as possible took over me.

This wasn't supposed to happen. This was  _not_  how I was supposed to wake up… Not even remotely!

Not  _Emma_. No.

No, no, no, no…

" _No_ …"

I needed to stay away from her. I summoned my magic to teleport to my vault, abandoning her again after promising I wouldn't. Despite how cliché of a reason it was, I was doing it for her own good.

After the cloud of purple mist had cleared from my surroundings, I opened my eyes, only to find myself on  _top_  of the mausoleum, rather than  _inside_  of it. Thankfully, the second time around I managed to move from the roof and into the vault; I reasoned that not using magic for almost three months must have undermined my abilities.

Regardless, I cast several protection spells around the area, making sure that absolutely no one would manage to get to me.

Once I had entered the secret basement through my father's pretend tomb, I sat on a chair and cradled my head in my hands. There were four things I needed to do, at the moment: find Gold; talk to the idiots; hug my son and… well,  _disappear_. To my luck, I didn't have the time to cradle in my misery, at the moment; that was something I would only be able to do once I was back in New York – and this time I had all of my memories to make sure the pain wouldn't fade away any time soon.

Sensing a rush of anxiety spread through me, I stood up from my spot and started pacing. My nervousness wasn't due to what I was about to do; rather, how Emma was feeling. I knew her well enough to know my departure had, most likely, broken her heart. It took me a great amount of will power not to approach one of the many mirrors in the room and check in on her, and even more not to simply go back to her and pretend everything was fine.

I steeled myself for that little chat with Rumple, making sure that was my only concern, for the time being. Realizing I was still in my sleepwear, I changed into something more professional – and, consequently, more intimidating – and tried not to think too much about the unintentional white and gold hue my new clothes were sporting, although I intended to wear a darker shade.  _Damned awry magic!_

I teleported directly in front of the pawnshop and let my pain fuel my anger.

I didn't think twice before bursting through the front door and inside the pawnbroker's. As I had imagined, Gold wasn't occupying his typical position behind the counter: the imp must have felt the wave of energy True Love's kiss had caused and deduced I had regained my memories. I unceremoniously made my way into the backroom, also predictably empty. The fact that the front door had been unlocked and the lingering static electricity in the air suggested that he hadn't been gone for long.

I checked his apartment, the library, even Granny's, but each of my stops turned out to be a dead end. There was one last place I was planning on going to and, paradoxically, I hoped I wouldn't find him there.

Despite having walked to my previous locations, I decided to materialize directly at the mansion: I didn't want to risk being seen by Emma… Hell, I didn't want to risk  _seeing her_. I knew I would fall apart, if I saw her… I wouldn't be able to leave her, had I seen how distraught she was. To make sure I wouldn't run into her, I appeared inside my study and made as little noise as possible when I opened the door. I silently and carefully walked through the house, and when I reached the lounge I found the object of my research sitting comfortably on my couch, acting as if he owned the place.

His behavior only added to my ire.  _How dare he?!_

The clicking of my heels announced my presence, although he had been clearly waiting for me. Staring straight ahead, he didn't flinch when I entered his field of vision, and the seething anger I was irradiating didn't seem to worry him in the slightest.

"You spineless son of a  _bitch_!" I yelled finally, raising an arm and willing a thrust of magic to send him flying across the room. Somewhere between my blind rage, a tiny slice of my mind managed to register how he didn't stop me, although he most definitely had the power to. "You can subdue Snow as much as you want, but if you  _dare_  touch Miss Swan again, I swear, I will end you!"

"Oh, now, now, Your Majesty," he finally reacted, struggling to stand upright, "we both know very well that that is not going to happen. Although I have to admit your reaction baffles me a tad… I had thought you'd be thanking me, by now."

His unctuous smirk made my rage churn inside me.

I knew indulging him wasn't a good idea; I had known Rumplestiltskin for a very, very long time, and I knew how able he was at tricking people with his words. Nonetheless, "Why would I ever do that?" I asked.

"Well, had I not tried to kill Miss Swan, you wouldn't have protected her and she wouldn't have admitted to being in love with you. Your curse broke thanks to me, dearie."

"And that is precisely what I didn't want to happen!"

"And why is that?"

"That is none of your business, Rumple. So, I'm telling you this: you think you've seen me angry, but the Evil Queen was nothing compared to what I'll become if you even so much as look at Emma. You hurt her, and I will find you and pulverize everything you hold dear. Have I made myself clear?"

He looked me in the eye for a second, studying me with that insufferable smirk of his still in place. "Crystal." He headed towards the front door. Stopping before walking out, he added, "Have a nice trip to New York, Your Majesty."

He was gone before I could ask him for an explanation.  _How did he know…?_

I shook my head to stop thinking about it. I didn't have time to muse on the Dark One's ways.

What happened next almost felt like a ten minutes-long  _déjà-vu_. I looked around my house, silently bidding farewell to my surroundings, to that house that had been my home for the past three decades. I hoped Henry would forgive me, I hoped he'd understand just how important it was, that I stayed away from him. I wondered where Emma was and what she was doing, how much I had hurt her. Even  _I_  was feeling as if my heart and my mind could fall apart at any moment… And I had thought that leaving her last time had been hard…

Unashamed of the tears that were rolling freely down my face, I stepped into the kitchen, grabbed a pen and a piece of paper and, just like that dreadful night on August 26th, precisely eighty-one days ago, I scribbled the very same few sentences I had written before, the only difference now being the transparent stain my teardrop had left on the corner of the page.

Light footsteps announced Emma was climbing down the stairs. I couldn't let her know I was there, but I wanted – I needed – to see her one last time. So, when I heard her approach the kitchen, I hid behind the door that led to the basement and left it slightly ajar – just enough for me to be able to watch her without being noticed. Her hair was damp and she had changed into her everyday clothes; I realized a shower would explain why she hadn't heard Gold and I talk.

I couldn't help but think just how beautiful she was as she looked at the kitchen island, her expression stoic even when there was no one around her.

She sighed as she grabbed the piece of paper, gently ran her fingers on the wet corner and pulled her wallet out of the pocket of her jeans. I was stunned when I saw her extract the note I had left for her the first time and flick her wrist: a jolt of magic attached the two pieces of paper together, back to back, and she proceeded to place them both back in her wallet.

Her resignation made my heart ache just that little bit more.

* * *

I teleported to the Charmings' before Emma could notice I was at the mansion. At least, I  _wanted_ to teleport there; I actually found myself at the end of the street, and had to walk to the loft. According to the clock tower, it was just past eleven, which meant Henry was still at school; I supposed it was a good thing, as I preferred to have a more private conversation with him.

It was David who opened the door when I knocked, baby Neal asleep in his arms. His stunned expression turned into a more confused one when he noticed Emma wasn't with me. I didn't wait for an invitation and stepped past him, inside the apartment, where Snow was laying on the couch and staring aimlessly into the void. Somewhat luckily, recent events had her staying home from work, and I could talk to both Charmings.

"Regina? What's wrong?" David asked, finally shaking off his initial hesitation. "Is Emma okay?"

At his words, Snow's eyes moved and focused on me. She sat up as she realized I was there, and she had just opened her mouth to talk when I spoke up.

"No, she's not." Maybe it was the rawness in my voice, or maybe my behavior, that made them understand.

"You're back?" they asked simultaneously, their expressions a combination of stupor and incredulity.

I curtly nodded. "Yes, indeed I am. Although that's not why I'm here…"

"How? How did you manage to break the curse? Does Emma know? Does  _Henry_  know? Was it him?" Snow's bombardment of questions had me frustrated; I definitely hadn't missed that aspect of her personality.

"Emma woke me," I replied shortly. I couldn't look at either of them in the eye when I added quietly, after a pause, "True Love's kiss."

The room was silent for a moment. I didn't want to see the fear and disappointment on their faces, so I kept staring at my hands until David finally spoke up.

"Took you long enough," he said, and my head snapped up. I was surprised to see the warm – although vaguely teasing – smile on his lips, a mirror to Snow's own one.

A part of me wanted to know just how they knew about Emma and I's feelings; but I knew that now was not the time for that conversation.

"Yes, well, I'm afraid nothing more will happen. I'm going back to New York." Again, the two of them started shooting question after question, straining my tolerance even further. I had to raise my voice to make them listen to me. "The reason behind my decision is personal. Just know that I have at heart Emma and Henry's – and, yes, even your – best interests. I wouldn't leave if I didn't know it was the only way I would keep all of you safe. Perhaps… perhaps one day I will explain everything. For now, I'm only asking you to trust me, hard as it can be. Help Emma move on, help Henry forgive me. But, please, don't – under any circumstances – let them come after me. Make them hate me, if you must, as long as they're safe."

"Regina… Emma will never get over this. She's filled to the brim with abandonment issues, you can't just leave her and hope she can move on as if nothing ever happened between you two!" Snow exclaimed.

"And that should be enough proof for you to understand how serious this situation is, and how essential it is that I leave. I love her, Snow… more than my own life. I wouldn't leave her if I didn't deem it absolutely necessary." I paused for a second to let my words sink in, before continuing. "Now, I need to find my son and explain him what happened, too. And I'm going to ask him, as well as you, one last favor: don't let Emma know why I left or where I'm going. She would be in even more danger than she is now, and I can't let that happen. If you care about her as much as I do, keep her here. Keep her  _safe_. Please."

I waited for them to nod, before turning around. I knew I was on the verge of tears, and I couldn't let them see. I felt David squeeze my shoulder and, without looking back, I let purple fog engulf me.

* * *

As expected, my magic faltered again. I had appeared directly into one of the classrooms, scaring the life out of some teenagers and causing their teacher to faint.

I didn't waste time apologizing, before I stormed out of the room and walked through the hallways, my heels clicking imposingly, until I finally found the room where I knew Henry's Creative Writing class was.

I urgently knocked on the door and waited. The teacher asked me to wait outside while he announced, "Mr. Mills? Your mother is here to see you," and I supposed Henry wasn't expecting  _this_  mother to have shown up, judging by his reaction.

Not unlike his grandparents, he was baffled at the unexpected visit and, especially, at the intense look on my face. "Uhm, hi…?"

Dear, had I missed him. "Henry," I said, my eyes already watering.

He didn't need to hear anything more. Understanding washed over him and he lunged at me, squeezing me in his arms as if he never wanted to let me go. My heart broke.

"Mom," he whispered as I held him back, stroking his hair and inhaling his scent as I heard his sobs against my shoulder. Once he had finally calmed down, he broke the hug and looked at me, the brightest of grins on his face. "Ma broke the curse, didn't she?"

I couldn't help the bittersweet smile that his enthusiasm caused. "Yes, she did. She saved me."

"True Love's kiss?"

I simply nodded.

"What's wrong, then?" he asked, noticing my expression. I only distractedly registered his complete lack of surprise at the knowledge that Emma and I were in love.

"I had to break her heart," I murmured back, "and now I have to break yours, too.

"I have to leave, sweetheart, for the same reason I left three months ago… Although now, not having enough time to produce another memory curse on myself, I'll remember everything. I won't be back any time soon… I don't even know if I will be back at all. But I want you, I  _need you_  to know that I love you, and I always will. I didn't say goodbye last time, but I want to say it now. I love you with every fiber of my being, Henry. You and Emma are the most important people in my life, and that is precisely why I have to go. I made a mistake, years and years ago, and now someone is looking for me. I don't want to put you or Emma into any type of danger. It would kill me.

"So promise me, Henry, that you will stay here and you won't look for me. Promise me that you'll stay with your mother and you won't let her do anything stupid. Can you do that for me?"

A teary nod was all I received. I closed my eyes as I kissed his forehead, and before I could change my mind, I teleported again, my last sentence lingering in the hallway as my magic enveloped me.

"Farewell, my little prince."

* * *

That was it. A couple more meters and I would leave behind everything I held dear.

Oddly enough, my first thought as I arrived at the town line was how bluntly underwhelming the moment was. There was no sad music filling the air; no rain to add to the drama of the moment… no one there to say goodbye to. Only my Mercedes and I, the suitcase magically filled with my clothes securely loaded in the trunk, my foot on the gas pedal; a bit of pressure and there would be no turning back.

I was glad that this time I managed to say my goodbyes. I had even stopped by Zelena's before coming here. In August, I had cast the curse on myself without informing anyone in advance, and when I had stepped over that tracing of red paint, it was with absolutely no memories of my past. No memories and, well, no regrets, either.

This time I did remember, and it hurt more than anything I had ever experienced before. Not even losing Daniel had caused me as much grief, because now I had a family, and I didn't get to enjoy it for a second. I didn't get to see Robyn and Neal grow up; I didn't get to bake an apple turnover for Christmas with the Charmings; I didn't get to see my son have a child of his own; I didn't get to tell Emma that I loved her.

This time around, my memories were all I would ever have. I would move forward by inertia, always stuck in the past and wondering what would have happened, had I stayed. It wasn't ideal, of course… but if it ensured the safety of the people I loved, then I wasn't going to have any regrets.

I chanced one last glance at the town –  _my_  town, the one I created and cursed and ruled – before finally putting the car in drive and leaving, my home nothing but a fading picture framed by my rearview mirror.


	22. Regina - Changed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: You guys really are the best. Your response has been incredible, as always, and I couldn't be more flattered - more honored. I really love y'all, and I hope you have a wonderful rest of the week.

I arrived in New York at around half past six in the evening and, I had to admit, the sight that greeted me was not one I had expected.

Every shop, every house was brimming with decorations. The Christmas season had begun, and I had been so lost in my own little world that I hadn't even noticed the festivity was on its way.

For reasons I didn't care to know, Christmas had been a tradition of this land that Rumplestiltskin's curse had maintained when I created Storybrooke. Nevertheless, after it broke the citizens that were most attached to their former lives in the Enchanted Forest refused to indulge the celebration, hence the streets of Storybrooke weren't quite as overdressed as they once used to be. Consequence being, I hadn't realized it was only two days away.

As I pulled over in front of the  _Magic & More Designs_' building, I mentally steeled myself for what I was about to do. I may have worked there for no longer than a handful of months, but I was aware of just how big of an impression I had made and how much I was going to be missed. Quitting the job was going to take a lot of patience and a lot of convincing… two attributes I wasn't in the mood of humoring, at the moment. And yet, I didn't have a choice; determined to get it over with, I got out of my Mercedes and let the icy, polluted air give me the necessary strength to deal with my resignation.

I entered the establishment and was fearfully greeted by the receptionist, whose insincere smile had me roll my eyes at her, before I made my way to the third floor: I needed to check my office and analyze the magical residue – assuming that it hadn't faded away yet – that enveloped the folder with Snow's apartment information. Not that I didn't know whose magic it was; I simply wanted to be able to recognize it, in case…  _she_ … showed up. After all, I had never seen her in person, before: it was my only way to identify her.

As I opened the door to my office, I was surprised to find it in the exact same conditions I had left it, almost a week ago. It was striking, almost as if time had stood still while I was gone.

Shaking those pointless thoughts away, I started rummaging through the files on my desk, until I found the one I was looking for. I hesitantly brought it closer to my face and took a deep breath, inhaling the effervescent, sweet, primordial scent of her magic. Thankfully it was still there, perhaps because of the might of its holder, or perhaps simply because magic wasn't supposed to exist, in this Land, and every trace of it didn't simply fade away.

Either way, I stored its identifying traits in my memory, and once I was sure I would be able to distinguish it, I headed towards Mr. Dawson's office.

"Regina!" he exclaimed with a warm smile, after he let me in. "What brings you back so soon?"

"I'm afraid I'm not exactly  _back_ ," I replied. I was beginning to feel vaguely nervous, but I managed to keep my voice stern and my expression impassive. "I came to resign."

His mouth parted slowly as he processed my words, his smile instantly replaced with a frown. "May I ask what led you to this decision?"

"I'm moving back to my hometown," I lied, "which is much too far for me to be able to keep this job. I realize it's abrupt, but I'm not going to change my mind."

Mr. Dawson nodded wearily, every ounce of cheerfulness now completely erased. "If you're sure, I'm not going to stop you. I only need you to sign this – it's your termination claim – and you'll be free to go. You will be missed, Regina."

"I know. I will miss this job as well." And it was true. During the past few months I had, admittedly, enjoyed working as an interior designer. Surely, here my decorative talent was more appreciated than back in Storybrooke.

Once I was dismissed, I drove to my apartment and informed my landlord I wouldn't be renting the place anymore. While I had left my job because it was of no use to me – after all, I didn't need the money and I didn't have a pretend identity to maintain – moving out of that apartment was a prevention. That way, even if Emma and her hotheadedness decided to come after me and look for me here, in New York, she would have a hard time finding me.

I emptied the flat and forced the last of my belongings inside an empty bag I had brought along, loaded that inside my car as well and drove to the other side of New York in search of another place to live. Luckily, in this land money was exponentially influential, and I managed to rent a small loft at an incredibly disproportionate price. At least, being on the second-to-last floor of a considerably tall skyscraper, the view from the window was striking.

In order to keep my mind off of things for as long as possible, I immediately dove into unpacking, making sure to take my time and prolong the distraction.

It wasn't until I opened my handbag to get my cellphone that I remembered about the jewelry box. I took it out and looked intently at it. Now,  _that_  I did not know anything about. I had never seen it in my books, I had never heard of magically materializing crystals… I didn't even understand why it had appeared or who had sent it to Emma and I. I studied the incisions on the wooden surface, but there was nothing important; just a wavy pattern, its purpose only decorative. However, as I turned the box upside down (the lack of noise and movement from inside had me guess that the crystals weren't as subject to gravity as most things) I noticed a different engraving on the bottom facet: cursive words, in an ancient language – Latin, I reckoned – almost camouflaged in the surrounding curves and curls.

" _Dolorem Animi Extinguo_ ," I read, inadvertently muttering the words out loud, as I lightly traced the etching with my fingers. ' _I erase the pain of the soul_ '.

The sentence didn't sound familiar, and I was growing more and more frustrated: I didn't like not knowing why I had that box.

I opened it and painstakingly eyed the crystals, careful not to remove them from the velvet cushion. There was magic emanating from them, even in this land. I recognized Emma's and mine, although I could sense a third and, perhaps, even a fourth one, both almost as puissant as  _hers_ , and surely just as transcendental. Infinitely more powerful than Emma and I could ever be, maybe even more than us two combined.

It was frightening, earnestly. I ignored its origin and its purpose, and I feared it.

Deciding the stress it was causing me wasn't beneficial in the slightest, I closed the jewelry box and placed it back in the purse. It was a concern I could get back to at a later date. I took my phone out, checking the time: it was ten in the evening. I imagined running a bath would help me relax, and it was a nice way to postpone the moment I'd go to sleep.

I stripped as warm water filled the tub, and once I sank among apple-scented bubbles I let my mind drift. Firstly, I thought about the upcoming night: I remembered all-too-well the restlessness I had had to endure the past few months, the monstrosity my mind turned into on a daily basis, the noise that filled my head and never stopped. I didn't want to undergo that awful experience again, and I hoped that, now that I had my memories and I knew New York wasn't my real home, I wouldn't have to.

I blankly stared at the ceiling as I let my mind wander. Every thought I had seemed to lead me, inevitably, to Emma; so I yielded to the path my mind was travelling.

Firstly, I thought about True Love's kiss. It had only happened twelve hours ago, albeit it seemed much longer. The reason why us kissing had broken the curse only today, although it had been about five days since we first shared one, was quite obvious, to me: despite the fact that the feelings I bore for her had been awakened almost immediately, it was only after I remembered her that True Love was able to completely blossom. Up until this morning, I was only in love with the Emma I had met in front of  _Magic & More Designs_. I didn't know who she really was – I didn't know who  _I_  really was – therefore it was impossible for me to love her wholly. When she had started telling me about those adventures we had lived together, she triggered something that had me remember her; I imagined it was partially due to her magic circulating in my system, the magic she had used to heal me: a part of her was flowing inside of me, of course it would instigate some sort of reaction. It was only after those memories flooded me that I was able to love every single side of her personality – the maddening blonde that dared to challenge me at every given occasion, the Savior that didn't want the burden of everyone's happy endings on her shoulders, the orphan that couldn't accept the reality of having a family, the woman scared of her powers, the Dark One. During the three years that Emma had been a part of my life, I had fallen for her slowly, imperceptibly, unknowingly. And she felt the same.

I sank deeper into the bubbles. I wondered what she was doing now,  _how_  she was doing. A large, irrational part of me wished, against any better judgment, that she would burst in my apartment and kiss me until everything would be okay. I wished I could simply go back home and erase any threat that could come our way.

I couldn't let myself accept reality for what it was… not yet. I wasn't ready to live with the knowledge that I would likely never be able to make love to Emma again, that there was a chance I would never see Henry. I wasn't ready to embrace the truth, so, as I drained the tub and got ready to sleep, I let my mind meander in reveries and fantasies.

As I slipped in my bed, my heart pounding for what was about to happen, a loud  _beep_  from my phone announced an incoming text. I opened it, curious to see who it could possibly be from, and my heart skipped a beat at the identity of the sender.

**From: Emma** _I know you have troubles sleeping, so I figured I'd text you all night long, you know, so you won't have to be alone_

Three other chimes followed.

**From: Emma** _I mean, I get it if you don't want to hear from me_

_Actually, I don't get it, cause you left without a decent explanation, but I respect it, really_

_You're not the first one to leave and you won't be the last. Just know that I'm not mad at you or anything and I don't blame you at all_

I stared unbelievingly at the screen. What did I ever do to deserve someone like Emma Swan? I had tortured and hurt countless people. I had been tortured and hurt countless times. You'd think the two would balance each other out; that my life would only consist in the pain I had caused to come back at me. But then, in between the sea of darkness that was my existence, there were these two beams of hope that lit the way to something so very similar to happiness: a happiness I didn't deserve, one that wasn't supposed to balance out the blackness of my pain but slowly was. And those two beacons in the veil of my desperation were Henry and Emma, two wonderful people that inexplicably happened to love me as much as I loved them.

And if there was something I knew for certain, it's that I did not deserve them in the slightest.

I had just broken Emma's heart –  _again_  – yet she was willing to spend the whole night texting me so that I wouldn't have a mental breakdown. Despite everything, she was willing to put aside her own wellness to prioritize mine.  _A White Knight in shining armor, through and through_.

My fingers lightly hovered over the keys on my cellphone, unsure what to reply. I quickly typed in an empty, ' _Thank you_ ', before erasing it and replacing it with a, ' _Go to sleep, Miss Swan_ '. Eventually, I gave up trying to think of a proper reply, set my phone aside and waited for the next notification from Emma to pop up; I knew she had been staring at the screen this whole time, anxiously eyeing the three dots that meant I had been typing. I could almost see the pout on her face when my text never arrived, and, despite everything, I smiled fondly at the device next to me, and the person on the other side of it.

**From: Emma** _Fine, don't say anything. It's not like I was expecting you to, anyway_

I huffed a bittersweet laugh at that. Of course she had been hoping to hear from me, and I felt even worse knowing I was still hurting her, even from six-thousand miles away.

**From: Emma** _Oh, and if you don't want to listen to (or read) me rambling all night, just switch off your phone or something. I don't mind_

_Soooo… it's been a rough day_

_Henry spent the whole afternoon at that playground you got built for him after the storm. Feels like an eternity ago, doesn't it? When we used to hate each other and our lives were nothing but crazy stories in a kid's book_

_I kinda miss it, you know? All the bickering and the glares… Just imagine how much make-up-sex we'd have had, if we had figured this all out sooner_

_I bet it would've been rough_

_Okay, yeah, I'm getting out of topic_

_I was just tryina defuse the situation_

_It's not like I've been having a great time, on my part, and, despite not knowing why the hell you left, I have a feeling you haven't either_

_I just hope you'll get through this whole thing and come back soon_

_…_

_… You are coming back eventually, aren't you?_

I could almost sense Emma's anxiety as the bombardment of texts abruptly paused. An overwhelming need to tell her that yes, I was going to go back to Storybrooke, eventually, struck me. I wanted to reassure her, to tell her that everything would be fine and we would live happily ever after.

But it would be the biggest lie I could ever tell her. Because, if this whole situation was going to end up the way I predicted it would, then none of the above was going to happen. Yes, there was a small chance that I'd make it out alive, but no matter how many Lands I cursed, no matter how many Writers I chased down, no matter how many times I fell in love… there was no such thing as a Happy Ending, for an Evil Queen.

And I realized that that was precisely the point: I  _didn't_ deserve happiness, and I wasn't going to have it. What I had had the good chance of sharing with Emma and Henry – maybe even what I had experienced with Daniel and Robin – wasn't but a small, infinitesimal portion of what would have been a Happy Ending: just enough for me to crave it with every ounce of my being, but never enough to completely satisfy me. And that – the endless torture of being so close to happiness to be able to taste it, but never close enough to grasp it…  _that_  was what I deserved.

Another series of rings from my phone.

**From: Emma** _Of course you're not. I should've figured it out sooner_

_I mean, you wouldn't have made this big of a deal out of this whole situation, if you were planning on coming back_

_What can I say? I'm an idiot – always have been and always will be. An idiot who gets her hopes up and constantly sees them come crashing down_

_I guess I am kinda mad at you, now_

I sighed wearily. How was I supposed to explain myself without putting her in danger? How could I tell her what I had done and what I was going to face to pay for my mistake without losing her, too?

I needed some air. I jumped out of bed and wrapped myself in what used to be Henry's favorite blanket. I exited my apartment and padded barefoot up the two flights of stairs that led to the terrace on the roof, swung open the metal door and perched myself onto the brick parapet. I hugged my knees as I looked up at the sky. I remembered what Emma had told me, days prior: the stars had been the only constant in the mass of changes that had been her life; they had been the only thing she could call 'home'. Curious how, while I watched those very same clusters of lights, I felt as lost as ever. I was as far away from home – both physically and spiritually – as I could bear.

I retrieved my phone from the pocket of my flannel pajamas – an unexpected change from my usual silk sleepwear, but one that gave me a slight solace – and snapped a picture of the two brightest stars.

**To: Emma** _Quand tu regarderas le ciel, la nuit, puisque j'habiterai dans l'une d'elles, puisque je rirai dans l'une d'elles, alors ce sera pour toi comme si riaient toutes les étoiles.*_

I stared at the caption for a moment, before finally sending the photograph. A stray tear left my eye, and I didn't bother wiping it away. I knew Emma wasn't familiar with foreign languages – Belle and fries were probably as far as her knowledge of French culture went. And maybe she had never read  _The Little Prince_ , but it was the fairytale I used to read the most to Henry when he was little, and that was a memory I had shared with her when I sent her and Henry to New York. I hoped she would understand the double meaning of those words, the symbolism hidden behind a children's book.

Because, soon enough, I would live on one of those stars; and I would laugh, finally at peace. And I hoped, in that moment, that Emma would be happy again, happy enough to laugh along with them.

She kept sending meaningless texts, never addressing my photo or the newfound awareness, albeit I could sense the tension behind her lighthearted words. But she never left me, and I smiled ruefully at the increasingly paling sky.

* * *

* _ **When you look up at the sky at night, since I'll be living on one of them, since I'll be laughing on one of them, for you it'll be as if all the stars are laughing.**_


	23. Regina - Found

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't get over how overwhelming your response to the previous chapter has been. Your comments make my day. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.  
> I hope you have a wonderful weekend, and I'll see you on Tuesday!

Somehow, watching the night slowly give way to the morning, its pitch black hue ceding to a deep purple that shifted to pink and, eventually, to a spotless blue – the total absence of clouds suggested that this Christmas wasn't likely to be a white one – filled me with an unexpected sense of dread that hit me completely out of the blue. I knew for a fact what it meant: it was a natural instinct whispering, 'time is up'.

This was it. I knew it for a fact. Today, on Christmas Eve, I was going to face yet another one of my demons – and a very powerful one, at that… this time around, all by myself.

Slowly but determinedly, I walked back to my apartment, took a shower and got ready, precisely like any other day. I didn't have work to attend, nor errands to handle; but I figured a small trip around The City would be a salutary-enough way to spend the day. Better than to wallow in fear and dashed hopes, anyhow.

I numbly walked to the other side of the road and entered the small diner just across the street. It wasn't as crowded as Granny's would be at seven-thirty in the morning, but it still housed more clients than I had expected. My particularly formal attire (at least, to the standards of that place) earned me a couple of curious glances, but I had grown used to ignoring other people's opinions, during the three years since the curse broke.

I took a seat at one of the empty tables – the counter was already occupied by five or six construction workers – and patiently waited for the waitress to come get my order. It took her longer than I would normally like, but then again, it wasn't as if I had to rush anywhere.

"Hi!" she welcomed me with a perky voice and a wide smile, not dissimilar to Ruby's usual behavior. "What can I get you?"

"A plate of pancakes with apple syrup on the side and a black coffee, please" I dictated. Just as she turned away to leave, after a moment where I abandoned every last slice of dignity, I added, "Actually- I'll get a hot chocolate with cinnamon, as well."

It was going to be, probably, my last day on Earth: I could indulge the desire of feeling Henry and Emma – and, admittedly, even Snow – close for the very last time.

The waitress came back to my table not too long after with a tray full of food and drinks and placed my order in front of me, excusing herself immediately to go welcome the latest client. If I were to be honest, I was far from hungry; one glance at my pancakes was enough to make my stomach turn, the anxiety inside of me threatening to make everything I ingested come right back up. However, I could use the energy coffee and sugar would provide me, so I started sipping on the hot beverage that wasn't there as a source of comfort.

I took my time finishing, losing myself in the sporadic chimes the bell at the entrance made every time a new customer walked in, the chaotic chatter of the twenty-or-so people in the diner, the gargling noise of the coffee machine. It was enough noise to distract me from thinking too much about what was going to happen that very day and about my family. The irony of it all wasn't lost on me: there had been a time when I would spend my nights trying to  _ignore_  the noise, rather than embrace it. Perhaps that had been my mistake from the beginning, come to think of it.

I was contemplating the whipped cream melting at the heat of the hot cocoa, dyeing the chocolate a lighter shade of brown and letting the cinnamon dissolve, when I felt it. An intense pulse of magic, worryingly close. It hadn't been someone using it; more likely, just a magic user that had happened to be close enough to me that I was able to feel their power.

Except for the fact that I  _wasn't_  supposed to be able to feel their power.

There were only two possible explanations for that occurrence: either the magic belonged to someone so mighty that they were able to use it even in this land; or it belonged to someone I was so deeply connected to that I was able to perceive them.

I didn't know which option was the most frightening. But then I recognized the essence of that magic, and as the door opened once again, I stood up and accidentally knocked the mug of chocolate off the table, effectively drawing everyone's attention on me.

A thick silence engulfed the diner at the sound of my mug shattering. I could feel everyone's eyes – some curios, others concerned – on me, but I couldn't stop staring, my heart thumping faster than ever, at that absolute, unbelievable…

"…  _Idiot!_ " I let out, and it wasn't angry, really, although I wanted it to sound so. I knew my knees were about to give out soon at the sight of Emma standing there, hence I took some deep, steady breaths as I regarded that beautiful, brave and irksome face, and took in every detail of her person – the predictable bags under her eyes, the messy hair, the crumpled clothes. After I was able to overtake the overwhelming wave of utter shock at seeing her right there, in front of me, in the middle of a random diner in New York, I asked, "How did you find me?"

At Emma's slight smirk, I couldn't help but roll my eyes at my terrible choice of words.

"Well, you know how it is, Regina…" she began, and I shot her a glance so murderous every other person receiving it would have already been darting the opposite direction. But that was Emma, and my glare only made her grin broaden. "… No matter where you are, I promise…"

"Don't you  _dare_ ," I threatened, but she continued, impervious to my tone.

"…  _I will always find you_ ," she concluded, and I didn't know if I wanted to slap her or kiss her.

I pursed my lips and flared my nostrils before striding towards her and tackling her in the tightest of hugs.

I fought against the heat that pooled behind my eyes –  _No crying, today!_  – and hid my head in the crook of her neck, breathing in her scent to prove to myself that  _yes, she really is here_.

She held onto me just as tightly, as I witnessed a fiery battle between the part of me who never wanted to let go and the one that wanted to keep Emma as far away from danger as possible.

Eventually, it was the second one that won. "You shouldn't be here."

"Yeah, well, I am," she replied, headstrong, "and I'm not leaving. Not until I help you get through whatever this whole thing is about."

I sighed deeply and broke the hug, cupping Emma's face instead and losing myself in her eyes – wide with worry and so, so full of love. "You are an idiot, Miss Swan. The biggest of them all."

She chuckles at that. "Some would call it bravery."

"Yes, well, I didn't say you were the  _only_  idiot," I retorted. Then, I let my thoughts crawl back to more pressing issues. "I swear, I'm starting to think your mother's incapability of keeping a secret might be pathological," I said with a sigh, finally separating from her and shooting an apologetic look at the waitress as I slipped on my coat and left a generous amount of money on the table.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, she obviously told you to come to New York, didn't she?" I retorted.

"My mother knew you were here?!" she exclaimed, her voice high-pitched.

I gave her a startled look as I grabbed her hand and lead her out of the diner, purposefully ignoring everyone's invading stares, still fixated on us. "If your mother didn't tell you I was here, how did you find me?"

Thankfully, she didn't make any references to her parents' corny catchphrases, this time. "I tracked you down from the text you sent me. You forgot I used to do that kind of stuff for a living, back when I was a bail bondsperson."

I nodded, humming briefly my understanding. "And why, please tell me, did you decide to come to me despite my clarity about not wanting to be followed? What, in that note I left you, was so difficult to comprehend?"

Emma's face lost any trace of hilarity, as a grave look took over it. "You said goodbye to everyone," she murmured. "You said goodbye to everyone except me."

I stopped abruptly at her words, flabbergasted at her response. She held her gaze downwards, although I could read the rejection and abandonment swirling in her eyes. "Of course I didn't say goodbye," I murmured, and my voice cracked on the last word. "I would have never been able to leave, if I did."

Finally she looked up, eyes tormented. "You left," she echoed.

My heart clenched at the accusation her words held. "I did." There was no point denying it. "I needed to know you'd be safe."

"Safe from  _what_ , Regina?!" she almost yelled, taking a step back to properly look at me. "Why can't you just tell me what's going on?!"

"Maybe not in the middle of the sidewalk, what do you say?" I walked quickly to the other side of the street, where that god-awful yellow bug was parked, right behind my Benz, and led her to my apartment.

"This-" she began, looking around in disbelief, "this is the place Henry and I used to live in…"

"Pardon?" I asked, incredulous.

"When you erased our memories," she explained, "we lived here. Did you not know that?"

I shook my head. That surely was an incredible coincidence.

"Well," she said, taking a seat on the couch as if she was in her own home (and, well, she sort of was), "go on. Explain."

I took a deep breath. "Several months ago," I elaborated, "the day after our return from the Underworld, I was visited by someone. She said she would seek revenge for something I did back in my Evil Queen days: I had failed her, and she wanted me to pay for my wrongdoing. She didn't precise the day our confrontation would take place, so I immediately retrieved my last memory curse and left the city, distancing myself from you and Henry as much as I could.

"You see, my mother may have made many unforgivable mistakes – there's no denying that. But she had always been right about one thing:  _love is weakness_. Look at us! Daniel, Neal, Robin, Hook… look how much we have suffered. If she were to use you or Henry to get to me, I don't think I would ever heal again. I couldn't let that happen.  _You_  are my weakness, Emma. That's why I left."

I sniffled – quite ungraciously, admittedly – as I finished that mock of an explanation, and I couldn't bring myself to look directly at her. I couldn't handle any more blame.

"You know," she said, gently taking my hand between hers, "Henry said something, after you left, yesterday. Not to me – he was talking with my parents, and I unintentionally overheard the conversation. He said that yes, maybe I would be in huge danger if I were with you; but we've managed to accomplish the unthinkable together, we've turned the impossible into child's play. We're nothing short of  _invincible_. And he's right, Regina. Our son believes in us, and I believe in him." She squeezed my hand and I finally looked at her. "Besides, a very wise person once said that True Love is the most powerful magic of all."

I let out a shaky breath and nodded brusquely. To say that I was terrified would be an euphemism; but then again, Emma was so confident… she believed so much in us, she was so, undoubtedly convinced that we were going to make it… Perhaps I had been spending too much time with a certain overly-optimistic person, because, despite all the odds being against us, I was starting to  _hope_.

"So, whose ass are we 'bout to kick?" she asked eagerly, after deeming my reaction acceptable.

I looked at her gravely. "Aphrodite's."

" _Aphrodite_?" Emma repeated, puzzled. "Isn't she, like, a goddess or something?"

"She is. The goddess of, among other things, fertility and procreation."

"Why would she be angry at you?"

"Have you ever read anything even minimally related to Greek mythology?" I asked rhetorically. "The Olympians tend to hold a grudge for the most insignificant of reasons, and they're probably the most vengeful people you'll ever come across."

"So, are you saying that she's trying to kill you just for the hell of it?"

"Well, not exactly…" She waited patiently for me to elaborate. I sighed. "Years and years ago I… I took a potion to impede my mother from controlling yet another portion of my life. The concoction… it made me sterile," I choked out, "and I- I was pregnant when I took it." I paused for a second, both to let Emma properly assimilate the information and to pull myself together. My voice was trembling as I continued my stammered explanation. "I was pregnant with Leopold's child. I wasn't aware of my condition, at the time; it was a realization that came to me only right after I had ingested the potion. It hurt, of course – there was a  _baby_  growing inside of me! – yet I couldn't help the rush of relief that washed over me. I  _hated_  Leopold. He… I'm not saying that he used to force himself on me, but it wasn't consensual, either. I was so young, so scared, and I felt so immensely powerless!" I angrily looked up, fixing my gaze on the ceiling to stop the tears that threatened to spill. "I think that the main trigger that caused me to become the Evil Queen wasn't as much Daniel's death per se, as the fact that – between Snow telling my mother and Cora and Leopold subduing me at every given occasion – I was never in control of my life. Becoming the Evil Queen gave me power over so many people, and I finally felt able to employ some control not only over my life, but other people's as well.

"Anyway, I'm getting off topic," I added after a pause during which Emma didn't comment, shaking my head as if it would free it from those memories. "The point is th-"

"You," Emma interrupted, causing me to finally meet her gaze – glassy and somehow sympathetic, although mostly admiring, "are the bravest woman I have ever met."

And there was such respect in her voice, almost on the edge of veneration, that it had my breath catch in my throat and my hands cupping her face as I kissed her with utmost despair and gratefulness. She deepened the kiss with zeal, her hands on my back pulling me impossibly closer to her. Immediately, my desire for her ignited, and I could tell from Emma's shaky breaths and dilated pupils that she wanted me just as hopelessly… Yet, neither of us pushed those kisses forward. We both wanted nothing more than feeling each other close, especially considering it might be the very last time we'd have a chance to do so; but a goddess was there to kill me – or worse – and we needed a plan of action: an aimless approach most definitely wasn't the best strategy.

As these unwelcome thoughts sneaked inside my mind, I reluctantly broke the kiss and sighed. I took a moment to take in reddened lips, flushed cheeks and shiny eyes, and I silently promised I would survive this encounter just to get a chance to spend more time with the wonderful woman in front of me.

"I love you," I whispered. It was the first time I admitted it to Emma, and the fear rushing through me paled at the immense truthfulness of those three words. Every ounce of anxiety and worry for what was coming next disappeared: I was with Emma. Nothing else mattered.

And as she moved a hand to rest on my chest, right above the broken organ that was fiercely pounding with the last iota of hope it allowed itself to have, she breathed out, "I love you too." I saw the purple and white mist of our magics starting to glow around us and grow stronger every second, and I knew we could defeat any danger that would come our way. In the limited space separating Emma and I's bodies, completely unexpected but also unsurprising, two gleaming crystals materialized from thin air, projecting rays of red light around the room and filling the air with fierce, raw power.

I lowered my gaze, essentially breaking eye contact with Emma. I was glad she kept her hand on my chest, her soft touch rending physical the emotional connection between the two of us: I mused that I needed that link just as much as she did. Then, focusing on the miraculous apparition, I entrancedly looked at the jewels and gasped.

Two halves of a broken heart, so red that the color seemed to bleed through the air around them, were levitating right next to Emma's arm, at the exact same height as our hearts, and slowly rotating, chasing and escaping each other, as if there was an invisible force pulling each one towards its other half.

I saw Emma hesitantly raise her left hand and I mimicked the movement, grasping one of the crystals at the same time Emma grabbed the other. Then, looking at her for confirmation, I directed it to Emma's awaiting one, willing to dovetail them together. I was surprised to feel an unforeseen force show resistance, not dissimilar to two magnets repulsing each other; however, a heartbeat later they tugged at our hands and, in an explosion of blinding red light, they slot in and perfectly fit together.

When the flash finally faded away, both Emma and I were somehow panting, and looked at each other once again, needing the confirmation that what had just happened was real.

Then, I saw a somewhat sinister glint in her eyes. I let out a strangled gasp as she thrust her hand forward and ripped my heart out.


	24. Emma - Faced

Holding the blackened, pulsating organ in one hand and the now-whole crystal in the other, I felt an almost crazed grin ease its way onto my face.

I looked up at Regina and was startled by the confusion – and… was it betrayal? – sprawled on her expression. Then I realized I had just taken her heart out of her chest without a hint of an explanation, and hers was a completely understandable reaction.

"Take my heart," I said, encouraging Regina.

Her puzzlement only increased, but she followed my instruction nonetheless, the blind trust it had taken her over three years to cultivate now showing blatantly. She placed her hand on my chest and with a swift, expert motion, she dipped it all the way to her forearm, slowly pulling the organ out. It didn't hurt; but the utter void I felt inside made up for the absence of physical pain.

"What are we doing?" Regina asked, now growing impatient at her lack of understanding.

I took a step back and placed the precious crystal on the coffee table, before replying. "I know exactly how we're going to defeat Aphrodite – if it ever comes to that."

"Care to elaborate?"

I joined her on the couch and moved her heart closer to mine. I admired the differences between the two: Regina's was mostly a dark shade of purple, although a portion of it still shone bright red; mine had an almost-as-large blob of black right in the center, while the rest was still its natural hue. Curiously, they reminded me of a yin and yang emblem: the light balancing out the darkness and vice versa. It made me muse that maybe Regina and I had always been somehow meant for each other.

However, the most peculiar – and, consequently, interesting – trait was something the two hearts had in common. I knew Regina was also studying intently the glowing surface: our hearts were broken – literally. Thin yet long cracks branched out over the organs, distorting with every pulsation and shrinking as the hearts, now beating in sync, did so. Although the crevices didn't seem deep, they were… well,  _a lot_. For some reason I was sure that, had I counted the times in my life that I had suffered or was hurt, the number would coincide with the amount of fissures.

"Emma…" Regina whispered then, pulling me out of my speculation. "Are you thinking what I think you're thinking?"

I looked up and saw a hesitant but thrilled Regina stare back at me, her eyes shimmering with eagerness.

I nodded once and, without another word, we split each other's hearts in two and exchanged one half of them, handling everything with extraordinary delicacy, considering the already fragile state of our hearts.

Carefully, after one last eye-lock through which we both drew confidence and reassurance from the other, Regina and I held our breaths as we joined the mismatched halves together and drank in the sight of those heartrending cracks mend, leaving only a light pink trail behind as a sign of their previous presence. They were now healed wounds that had left nothing other than a faded scar and a fleeting memory.

"Ready?" Regina asked, eloquently nearing her hand to my chest. At my determined nod, we once again stuck our hands inside each other's chests.

As my –  _our_  – heart retook its place, the most overwhelming sensation spread through me and knocked the air out of my lungs, leaving me breathless and clenching my chest as if it hurt. A tornado of unknown emotions filled my heart and radiated throughout my entire body, rending it almost painfully laden with this new and disarming wave of pure feelings that weren't my own but felt like it.

I was glad Regina and I had been sitting, because every muscle inside my body seemed to have weakened under the sheer force that overtook me. However, as soon as the shock had worn off and I embraced the invading emotions, I came to terms with the knowledge that now Regina and I were sharing hearts. Our pains, our angers, our fears were now melting together into such a mind-blowing mixture of emotions that I could barely digest it. Nonetheless, it was the most powerful of them that really struck me: our love, intense as sunlight and just as indispensable for our survival. My eyes glossed over as I finally accepted –  _truly_  accepted – that Regina's adoration for me was just as powerful and deeply rooted as my own. There was no emotional scar, no painful memory of foster families sending me away, no trust issue that could possibly make me doubt the sincerity of how Regina felt, now. We shared a connection that was likely going to cause an unwanted amount of problems – being so undeviatingly linked to each other meant that even the smallest layer of privacy was completely torn off, which was the exact recipe for an obsessive relationship, rather than a healthy one – but I couldn't help but be glad of the fact that this new bond was allowing me to get to know Regina in a way no one else ever would… not to mention how this brainwave that hit us was going to save Regina's life.

Deciding not to focus too much on the recently-fostered emotions (analyzing them was in equal parts invading and intriguing; but definitely not appropriate for the situation we were currently in), I finally breathed deeply to let my nerves relax and get ready for what was waiting for us.

"I really hope this works," I murmured, standing up and drying my sweaty palms on the sides of my jeans. It certainly didn't help that now my anxiety was twice as intense, what with being fueled by Regina's as well.

"It will," she retorted, taking my hand and squeezing it reassuringly. Her decisive look filled me with determination. "I don't know if you've noticed, but we made magic work.  _Here_. If we're capable of doing that, nothing can possibly stop us."

I only managed to flash her a smile, before a sudden thought hit me.

"Regina, the jewelry box!" I exclaimed, frantically looking around to find it.

She was already holding it, by the time I looked back at her. "I open it and you put the crystal inside?" she asked.

I shook my head. "I don't think I'll be able to do it. It will be unbearably intense, I know that for a fact…"

"Together, then."

"Together."

Regina placed the box on the coffee table and grabbed the heart, motioning for me to hold it as well. With one final look, I nodded resolutely and we unclasped the lock and lifted the lid of the jewelry box. For the second time over the course of five minutes, we were almost knocked off our feet by the violence of our love for each other. And, yes, it was a wonderful feeling; but way too overwhelming for us to be able to bear its intensity for longer than a few seconds. We barely managed to move our hands forward and settle the heart in its recess, finally able to breathe easily. I turned my head and looked at Regina: she looked absolutely stunning, with her disheveled hair and glossy eyes, and I couldn't help but kiss her with all my might, saturating it with the passion and the despair of a finally-hopeful soul, and the promise that everything was going to be absolutely fine.

We only broke the kiss when we felt a wave of power – earthshaking and primordial, it seemed to be flowing inside every object in the room and was absolutely everywhere around, above and below us – materialize out of nowhere and impregnate the air.

I slipped my hand in Regina's and let our fingers intertwine, a small source of comfort to the nervousness filling our stomachs.

"It's coming from the west," she commented, abruptly turning into her work-self, all politics and no messing around. Her experience with magic made her sensitive to even the smallest things, allowing her to draw knowledge from every single trait of the magic we were feeling – traits that I normally tended to ignore or couldn't perceive. "I think she wants to make a scene out of this."

"What do you mean?" I asked slowly, already dreading the answer.

"She wants people to see us. She's the goddess of beauty, remember? She's vain. She wants to… show off."

"Isn't that going to put everyone there at risk?"

"I don't think so," Regina sighed. "Aphrodite wants me, not civilians. However, letting people in the knowledge that magic and Greek gods exist?  _That_  is going to be dangerous. Henry has made me watch enough superhero films to give me quite a detailed idea of how the world is likely to react to magic and, generally, things that are out of its control."

"Well, that might be the case… But I'd like to hope today's society's a little more open-minded than the one in the  _X-Men_  movies," I joked. Truth be told, my hands were shaking and my heartbeat seemed to get faster every second, and I was sure Regina could feel it too. "Listen, let's just get through one problem at a time. First we defeat Aphrodite; then we'll think about whoever saw us. How does that sound?"

A nod from Regina was all the response I received, and after grabbing the jewelry box and securing it inside her coat pocket, she teleported us away.

* * *

Central Park was oddly unpopulated, that afternoon; then again, it was Christmas Eve, and most people were probably spending time with their family. Of course, that didn't mean some of those families hadn't decided to go for a walk in the park, couples hadn't indulged in a lazy stroll, runners hadn't committed to their workout routine. There were still a lot of people around, although not nearly as many as usual. I envied the normality of their lives: not being threatened by supernatural forces was definitely something I would welcome back into my own existence.

As I watched the little families wander, I briefly let my mind picture Henry's face as I brought Regina back home the following day… What a wonderful present would that be for him. I silently promised myself that I would commit to that task and deliver on it.

I looked at Regina. Her ragged breath was coming out in light puffs of mist and her cheeks and nose had reddened at the contact with the brisk December air. I felt my chest swell at the strength of my sentiment for her, and she must have felt it as well, because she turned to me with a slightly surprised expression.

"I love you too," she said in response, a warm grin that seemed to make the cold weather around me disappear.

"How sweet," another voice, sharp and thundering, resonated from behind us, and I immediately turned around. "What is this, Regina? You brought someone along to die with you?"

I couldn't help but stare as Aphrodite (because not even in New York would someone dress in a toga in the middle of winter unless they were an actual deity) smoothly made her way towards us, drawing glances here and there from the few roamers still around and naturally radiating energy, her power so strong that I could feel it vibrate through the air. To say she was beautiful would be an euphemism: her physical appearance was entirely flawless, starting from her blonde mane, so long it almost reached the ground, up to her curvy body. Behind her grey eyes, however, seemed to be hiding a swirling fury, barely contained and bound to burst at any moment.

"No one's going to die today," I commented, only to then add a hesitant, "Your… Divinity…"

Her gaze moved onto me and seemed to pin me to the ground, keeping me unable to do anything but stare back. " _Emma Swan_ ," she enunciated slowly, "Savior of the Enchanted Forest, daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming, and now… lover of the Evil Queen? Isn't she, what?, your step-grandmother?"

" _Former_  Evil Queen," I shot back, my own anger now fueling my words. A wave of gratefulness and adoration radiated from Regina, and I struggled not to smile warmly at the sensation.

"You're one to judge our relationship," Regina commented, hiding her sentiments behind a mask of utter indifference. "Didn't you have children with your half-brother?"

"Speaking of…" Aphrodite intervened, blatantly ignoring Regina's assumptions and twisting the conversation so it was once again in her favor. "You know why I'm here, Regina.  _Children_."

"Right! About that…" I awkwardly stepped in. "Can't we just all forget she took that potion? I mean, considering she's in love with  _me_ , a woman, it's not like children were ever in the charts for her. Except for Henry, of course, but that's not the point. Or maybe it is," I added the last part as an intuition popped into my mind. "Maybe, someone  _up there_  knew all along Regina and I would end up together and they gave us a chance to have a child that would be in equal parts hers and mine! So, if my theory is correct, it's not Regina's fault that she took that potion. It had already been planned, it was already written in the grand scheme of things or something, so that she would one day adopt the kid I gave up."

I ignored the resigned – though slightly amused – way Regina slapped a hand to her forehead and focused on Aphrodite's reaction instead, hoping against hope that she would just drop it and leave the two of us alone.

But then she burst into a fit of derisive laughter, and I knew my attempt had been for naught.  _Well_ , I thought to myself,  _at least someone's having fun_.

"You tried, dear," Regina murmured, and I shrugged helplessly.

"Was worth a shot."

"The only mind behind your child's adoption was Rumpelstiltskin's. I'd like to assume you're familiar with the Dark One?" Aphrodite commented once she had caught her breath, directing a pointed look towards me. I repressed the memories that title evoked, and Regina squeezed my hand as she sensed my uneasiness. "Now, what should I do to you…?" She brought a finger to her chin as she pondered on Regina's punishment. "Oh, yes! What a wonderful idea!" She grinned and her eyes lit up as she came up with the perfect solution. "I shall turn you into a pomegranate!"

A moment of silence passed as I let her words sink in.

"Uh- Sorry, what?" I asked then, unable to comprehend the logic behind her decision.

"A pomegranate, dear. The tree, not the fruit," Regina explained. At my still-confused expression, she rolled her eyes and complained, "Honestly, is your knowledge of Greek mythology  _that_  scarce?"

I shrugged, slightly annoyed.

Regina patiently elaborated. "It wasn't uncommon for Gods to turn humans into plants or flowers, for one reason or another. Daphne, Myrrha, Anemone, Myntha… Countless legends narrate this type of metamorphosis. Pomegranates used to be known as an emblem of fertility and procreation. It isn't a completely pointless punishment – it does make sense, in a way."

"Well, of course it does!" Aphrodite intervened, seeming almost giddy with euphoria. "Now, how about we skip the small talk and get straight to the fun part?" The goddess crowned her question with a thrust of magic – a powerful one at that, although it seemed to be pretty effortless for her – sent in our direction and just narrowly missing Regina.

I felt the adrenaline start to flow all throughout my body, fueled by the frantic heartbeat of my heart. The by-now-familiar sensation of having every sense alert and every nerve tense that only overtook me during a fight was back, urging me to stay on the lookout for upcoming attacks and helping me think of ways out our current situation.

A surge of screams erupted from the few bystanders, who immediately darted as far away as possible from the fuming hole in the ground Aphrodite's magic had caused.

Regina and I reflectively responded in kind, our own powers intertwining as white and red beams of light hit the target and sent an increasingly angrier Aphrodite flying backwards. She recovered from the fall fairly quickly, her eyes barely hiding the most guttural ire I had ever witnessed, and as I caught her gaze dart quickly to Regina and I's joined hands, I immediately knew what her next move would be.

Once again she sent a wave of power towards us; only, this time it was aimed at the tiny space right between us, as an attempt to divide us. Luckily, Regina (whose reflexes were quicker than my own, her having years and years of experience with magical battles whilst I barely had a couple) waved a hand in front of us just as the goddess's golden dart reached us, and her barrier was resistant enough to protect us. I reacted as well and mimicked my move from earlier, although this time Aphrodite was ready and effortlessly deviated my attack.

"May I ask," Regina spoke up, as the two of us caught our breath, "how exactly you managed to find me?"

Aphrodite let out a smug laugh while she thrust a couple more jolts of magic that had me tug Regina by her hand to get the both of us out of the way.

"After over three decades of me searching high and low for you, in each and every land I could possibly think of – yes, even this one; you were concealed under that curse of yours and I obviously didn't find you – you made one little mistake…"

"What are you doing?" I hissed at Regina as Aphrodite went on talking.

"… You went to the Underworld." The goddess scoffed, shaking her head as if thinking of a silly memory. "Not that I would've ever thought to go look for you  _there_ , not when I knew for a fact that you were still alive…"

"I'm buying us some time," Regina whispered back, careful not to get caught; but Aphrodite seemed to be so involved in her story to have all but forgotten about the two of us.

"Time for what?" I let out, but a quick look at my surroundings was enough to answer my question. A translucent veil of energy was leisurely taking shape around Aphrodite, to the goddess's unawareness, ultimately trapping her, although I imagined it wasn't supposed to be a permanent cage, as much as a temporary impediment.

Her monologue continued. "… Yet, when you witnessed your mother and your father's departures towards Mount Olympus, of course I caught a glimpse of you. I was right on the other side of that bridge. I never let you out of my sight, after that, and it wasn't long before I warned you about my intentions with you… But you already know that part of the story. Although mine was a pure act of benevolence to grant you a chance to bid your farewells to your loved ones, you tried to get away from me  _again_. You hid away in this godforsaken land with no recollection of who you were, and I lost track of you. Fortunately, we have to thank Miss Swan, here, if you went back to your dear little town and I was able to find you."

"Wait a second," I intervened, "are you saying that you didn't know Regina had been here, up until recently?"

Aphrodite shot me a lazy glare. "Well, of course not."

"Then you didn't have anything to do with a certain file about a job Mary Margaret Blanchard supposedly commissioned Regina to do?"

"Do I have to repeat myself? I had no idea she was here."

Regina and I exchanged a puzzled glance, but our attention was immediately back to our adversary, whose glare quickly turned into bewilderment and then rage, as she finally noticed the barrier around her.

"Did you really think a petty spell such as this would be enough to stop me? Ha!" She let out a humorless laugh. "You gullible insects. I'm a  _goddess_ , you can't defeat me!"

"You may be right… But we can slow you down." Regina turned to look at the terrified crowd hidden behind sparse trees not far from us and, imperative as only a former Queen could be, yelled, "Out of here!"

None of the civilians thought about it twice as everyone quickly ran out the park, far from wanting to witness Aphrodite's fury, especially now that Regina's little expedient had enraged her even further. I noticed some of them were pocketing their phones, and I really hoped none of them had filmed us. But that was the last of my problems, at the moment.

"We  _are_  going to defeat her, you know that, right?" I suddenly asked Regina as I tightened my grip on her hand, my eyes fixated on the goddess's golden magic repeatedly jabbing at the barrier as if trying to find a weak spot that would allow her to break it.

"What makes you so sure?" Regina retorted, and she squeezed my hand back. I felt the wave of uncertainty she was feeling, hidden behind her emotionless tone.

I turned to look at her, plastering on a confident smile and tilting my head to the side. "I love you," I responded simply.

"Oh, Emma," she said, sighing, and a strange longing fluttered behind her eyes as they roamed over my face, taking in every feature and projecting such warmth, such devotion, such adoration that it almost felt impossible to take in. "I love you too. But when has love ever been enough?"

And then Regina's barrier shattered to pieces and a wave of pure power sent us flying back, causing Regina to smash onto a tree and me to hit my right arm onto a nearby lamppost, inevitably fracturing it. Aphrodite's joyful laugh, however, wasn't due to her predictable freedom, nor to the harm she had caused us: she had managed to separate us, to break that physical contact that had always brought about the utmost efficiency of our powers, to keep  _True Love_  from being a threat to her thirst of revenge. And she was going to keep us apart for as long as she could.

I tried not to pay too much attention to the fearful expression Regina was displaying and gathered just enough energy to throw a large rock at Aphrodite, making it look like my non-dominant hand had me miss my target but actually offering up a brief distraction to the goddess.

During the few seconds she looked at the outcome of my pathetic, alleged attack and mocked me for it, genuinely amused and arrogantly insulting me about it, I glanced over to Regina, several meters to my left, to make sure she was okay: apart from a slight limp in her step and a couple of scratches on her face, she seemed uninjured. She gave me a curt nod that I mirrored, both wordlessly agreeing on our next plan of action. The adrenaline in my system increased, reaching almost impossible levels, as I thought of our only trick up our sleeve and the fact that we were going to use it.

Aphrodite then attacked yet another time, shooting a ray of golden magic at Regina; but we were ready for that.

Despite what the goddess thought, the physical link that made our powers infinitely stronger hadn't been broken. Of course Aphrodite couldn't know that Regina and I had exchanged halves of our hearts, secretly sealing the bond True Love needed to activate magic in a place where magic purely  _wasn't_ ; which caused her to gasp in surprise as Regina poofed away and I attacked right back, catching her off guard and hitting her square in the chest. Of course, since she was a goddess and I was  _me_ , that only had her stumble backwards and cough at the shockwave.

But, thankfully, Regina had reappeared behind her, and with one swift motion of her hand, vines and branches started growing and wrapping around Aphrodite's legs, arms and torso, effectively immobilizing her.

"Never underestimate the power of True Love, dear," Regina commented while I stepped closer to them. My heart (and Regina's, too) was racing.

Aphrodite scoffed. " _As if_ ," she mocked, and in less than a second the vines were gone and Regina and I were standing dangerously close to a very angry and very powerful goddess. "As I told you earlier:  _insects_."

Once again she hit us with her magic, and this time it was even more powerful than her earlier attacks. We flew through the air for no-less than sixty feet, and I ended up with a rustle in a bush while Regina hit her head on a bench and passed out. Although my landing had been enormously more harmless than Regina's, my head was spinning and the air had been knocked out of my lungs, causing me to cough painfully as I tried to ignore the broken branches piercing through my skin and the nauseating pain in my arm.

I caught sight of Aphrodite slowly stalking towards Regina's motionless body and I rushed to get to her, but, without even sparing me a glance, Aphrodite magically pinned me in place.

"Don't touch her!" I yelled, and I could swear the fear I had now would be enough to wake Regina up.

"Shut up, you spoiled brat," she spat out as she kept walking.

"Please!" I begged then. "I will do anything, but  _please_ -"

" _I said, SHUT UP_!" And my mouth was suddenly numb and I couldn't move it. I watched helplessly as Aphrodite finally reached Regina, and as soon as she raised a hand to touch her, I managed to poof between the two, still in the same awkward position I was in in the bushes, half sat and with my non-broken arm raised up.

"You stupid human, what do you think you're doing?!" She unceremoniously slapped me, and the fact that it was a magicless action made it all the more threatening. "I might transform your little girlfriend in a tree, but you, my dear…  _You_  will suffer so much more…"

"Oh, come on now, quit being so melodramatic," somebody spoke up, and I struggled against Aphrodite's magic restraint to turn and see who it was, although I didn't manage to move by an inch.

"After all, some of this is  _our_  fault, not theirs," another voice added, and Aphrodite rolled her eyes at whoever was behind Regina and I. Whatever their identity was, they were insanely powerful – I could feel the soft static of their magic flow through me.

"Yes, I figured as much," Aphrodite sighed. I was surprised to see that the vindictive look on her face had been replaced by a warm one, all sparkly eyes and sweet smile. "They  _wronged_  me, though…"

"I'm sure they have learned their lesson and won't repeat their mistakes. Come on, leave them alone… If not for them, for  _us_."

Aphrodite pouted and crossed her arms, petulant as a child. She seemed to be holding a staring contest with the two strangers, until she grunted in reluctance and vanished in a cloud of golden speckles, making sure to glare and sneer at Regina and I as she did so.

Suddenly, the immobilizing and muting spells vanished, and I was able to move once again. Along with the goddess, the overwhelming fear that had engulfed me left as well.

Before even sparing a glance at the new arrivals, I checked on Regina and healed the bleeding wound on her head as her eyes fluttered open, and I highly hoped she wasn't suffering a concussion. It would have been fairly inconvenient, given the situation we were in.

"How are you feeling?" I asked as I helped her up, my left hand wandering and checking every exposed inch of her body while I held my right arm still.

"I'll survive," she murmured back, and her brow furrowed as she looked at me. "You're hurt," she commented, and proceeded to fix my arm, letting her hand linger on it for a second, enjoying the reassuring touch.

Then she finally noticed the two figures behind me. I turned around and suppressed a gasp at the sight: two  _angels_  – it was the first word that came to my mind when I saw them: beautiful men with blond hair and huge, white wings – were standing there, almost completely naked (seriously, what was with these people? It's like the more powerful they were, the less clothes they wore. It's ridiculous) and irradiating an aura of energy not dissimilar to Aphrodite's, if only a tad less intense. I imagined them to be gods as well.

"Ah, Emma, Regina!" one of them greeted us, stalking towards us and pretending he didn't notice how we took several wary steps back as he moved. "I was wondering when we'd finally meet the two of you. Of course, this wasn't the situation I had in mind, but…"

"You're scaring them, E," the other spoke up, a placating hand on his arm to stop him from talking. Their resemblance had me assume they were brothers – maybe even twins, albeit not identical. "I hope you do realize we're here to help you. We know how…  _intense_ … our mother can get, sometimes."

"A, I don't think they even know who we are…" 'E' squinted his eyes as he regarded us, noticing the uncertainty and caution flashing in our eyes.

Regina took a step forward as she replied, "Eros and Anteros." I couldn't help but think, funnily enough, of how much she reminded me of Hermione Granger from  _Harry Potter_ , always so deductive and with an answer ready for every question she was asked. "Deities of love and mutual love, respectively."

"Very well, Regina," the one I assumed was Anteros praised. "Was it the wings that gave it away?"

"That, and the fact that you referred to Aphrodite as your mother," she quickly explained. "I imagine your visit isn't casual…?"

Eros shook his head. "We came here purely to save your lives… And, well, to have a little chat with you. I hope you understand just how difficult it was to get the two of you to open your eyes once and for all."

Regina and I shot them equally confused looks.

"You've been in love with each other since forever, but you were both too scared and too scarred to admit it even to yourselves," Anteros hurried to explain, shaking his head in exasperation, "let alone to pursue your feelings. You made yourselves fall in love with other people because you couldn't allow yourselves to even  _believe_  in the possibility of being truly happy with each other, having seen that same happiness ripped away from you time and time again, being afraid your feelings weren't returned and unwilling to put your ever-so-delicate alliance at risk."

Eros continued. "And yet, despite how much you suppressed that love, here you are, fully embracing it at last… And you earnestly thought we would simply let you  _die_ , after all the time it took you to sort your feelings out?"

"You know, sometimes True Love is effortless to find. Look at Snow and Charming: one glance at each other and they already knew they'd be spending the rest of their lives together," Anteros pointed out. "Other times, it takes a Dark Curse, twenty-eight years of frozen time, almost four years of repression and a memory curse. Now that you've truly  _found_  each other, at last, we promise we will do everything in our power to make sure you will get to enjoy every last bit of it."

"But why?" I couldn't help but ask. "Why go through all this trouble just for us? We're mortals. Insignificant."

"We saw you too, when you were in the Underworld" Eros explained, smirking. "We felt your pain and your love and it was just.  _So._   _Frustrating_!"

Anteros nodded in agreement. "We could feel your sentiments for each other, and we couldn't let so much potential for a wonderful love go to waste. When you parted ways, after Regina cast her curse, we knew we had to do something before it was too late (and before either of us popped an aneurysm). So we sent Regina a way to get back to you: Snow White's phone number. Luckily enough, everything worked out for the best, this time around."

Ah, so that's how my mom's apartment had ended up in Regina's office.

"And what about the jewelry box? Was that your doing as well?" Regina chimed in.

Eros sighed. "We have created them, yes; but we cannot rule or control them."

"Them?" I cut in. "Is there more than one?"

Anteros nodded. The fact that they were taking turns to talk was giving me a headache. "We have created two, all perfectly identical except for the incision on the bottom."

Confused as to what he was referring to, I looked at the box and Regina helpfully turned it, so that I would be able to see the barely noticeable cursive phrase on one of the facets.

"This one says, ' _Dolorem Animi Extinguo_ ', which is Latin for, 'I erase the pain of the soul'. It was destined to appear to someone whose love would be so powerful that it could ease every sorrow and every torment their lives had put them through, and help them to nourish and maintain that feeling," Eros elaborated. "We mailed it at your flat in New York once we discovered you had been chosen by the crystals.

"The other box can help revive an extinguished love, and displays the sentence, ' _Amorem Suscito_ ': 'I awaken love'."

"Albeit it was our creation, and it was our intention to let it get to you, we did not have a say in what the crystals would look like; only in the fact that they would start appearing once both parties were open to the possibility of falling for the other."

"They all represent parts of yourselves you've once had a hard time accepting, and they would each materialize when your relationship took a step in the right direction." Eros rolled his eyes at our persistent confusion. "Regina, please, open the jewelry box."

Regina followed his instructions. On Anteros' command, underlined by a wave of his hand, the five crystals levitated from their spots on the velvet cushion and started rotating behind each other, similar to an odd, circular tag-you're-it game.

"When you, Regina," he began, "decided to enact the memory curse, you did so as an attempt to protect your loved ones. You couldn't fathom the possibility of Henry or Emma – the two objectively most important people in your life – getting caught in the crossfire of your fight with Aphrodite. That caused you to accept, although perhaps unconsciously, that you loved Emma. Hence, you opened yourself up to love, once again; this time with the person you've always forbidden yourself to dream of. That's what ultimately triggered the first crystal's apparition."

Eros continued. "The green swan, however, only appeared once you made a connection with your old life, the life where you used to know Emma; and that connection was calling Snow and Emma's loft to redesign their apartment. Do you understand, now, what 'a step in the right direction' means?"

"The crystal swan metaphorically symbolizes Emma's past and the reasons behind her surname: her lack of parental and familiar stability, the inevitability of growing up without anybody, the need to build thick, tall walls around herself. It's one of the sides of her that had you fall for her, although you didn't remember it." Anteros smiled softly.

"It was only after Emma decided to actively find a way to break Regina's curse, that she found the next gem: the crown, this time emblem of Regina's opposition to becoming a queen, her growing hatred towards the king she was forced to marry, the constant reminder of the lack of control over her life she had always had to endure – firstly due to an abusive mother, then to a careless spouse."

Anteros smirked allusively before picking up from where his brother had left off. "You know what 'step' was taken, right before you found the crystal curse." He bobbed his eyebrows at us, obnoxiously to say the least.

Eros slapped him on the arm, although he was chuckling at his silliness. "This crystal, of course, represented the Evil Queen: Regina's reaction to her pain, the persona she created to face off her life's countless betrayals. Symmetrical to this was the following gem, the blue-ish dagger of Emma's own dark period, which appeared after you went on your first date and, implicitly, fully embraced and decided to cultivate a romantic relationship."

"Every single one of those crystals embodies facets of your personalities – of who you  _are_  – that the other has accepted, albeit with some difficulty, and has learned to love." Anteros took a few steps closer and put his hands on our shoulders. "You have gone through a lot, ever since you were young. You have endured loss, treason, heartbreak; some of which you have inflicted upon each other. But what you have now, what you have found together and what will help you fully and truly move on from all the sorrow of your past, is wonderful, unique and so, so special. Don't let anything ruin it, don't be scared of losing it… It's only when you are  _together_ ," and Eros touched, with the tip of his finger, the still moving red crystal, which immediately stilled and shone brighter, as if to make a point, "that the wounds on your heart will mend."

He approached the three of us, the floating crystals following close behind. "You are strolling towards a future that will certainly not be easy; but it leads towards the happy ending you've yearned for your whole life... And  _we_  know how much you deserve a chance at that."

"Allow yourselves to be happy with each other and, for once, your hopes won't be shattered."

"You  _will_  live happily ever after. That's a promise."

And with that, they vanished, the crystals and the jewelry box falling to the ground with a dull  _thud_.


	25. Emma - Come

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUYS! This is the second-to-last chapter, WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?! I'm honestly not ready for this experience to end. I'm going to miss you all so much. To thank you all for your overwhelming, empowering support, I'm happy to say that FINALLY we get to see some smut at the end of the chapter! If that is not your thing, you can just skip that part, as it isn't directly fundamental to the plot. Enjoy, you wonderful humans! I love you!

Before we could tear our eyes away from the spot where silver speckles had teleported the two gods away, we heard very familiar and very panicked voices overlap as they called our names from somewhere behind us. One of them, however, seemed to stand out from the other two, agitated and clearly worn out.

" _Moms_!" Regina and I turned around just in time to catch Henry as he very much threw himself at us, engulfing us in the most bone-crushing hug he ever offered us.

I squeezed the two most important people in my life back with just as much intensity, feeling two other sets of arms join in not too long after. I cried freely, tried by the intense confrontation with  _three_  gods, not to mention the near-death experience that had me almost lose the four people pressed tightly against me; the lightness I felt now in my chest was a relief so deep that I couldn't possibly hold back the tears of emotional weariness. I distinctly felt, thanks to our special bond, Regina's fear, which had kept her on edge during the past few hours, completely vanish, leaving a dull calm that felt almost foreign to both her and me.

I'm not sure how long we stayed like that, with my forehead pressed against Regina's, one of my hands cradling Henry's head that rested against my chest as he clutched handfuls of Regina's coat as if he never wanted to let go, all three encircled by my parents' arms. It was only after my mom's sobs had quietened and my cheeks had dried that we started detangling, although I slipped a hand in Regina's, still not quite ready to let go of her completely. She leaned into me as we finally faced the rest of our family and steeled ourselves for the myriad of question we knew were about to be thrown at us.

However, "How about we go get some lunch?" dad asked, taking everyone by surprise.

Mom looked up at him, her eyebrows raised up, and let out, "Yes, that might be a good idea."

And so we took off, Regina and I clinging onto each other and our son, mom and dad leading the way a few steps ahead. Which didn't make any sense, considering they had never been to New York before, and when I pointed it out we all erupted in light laughs that dispersed the thick, worry-filled tension that had been surrounding us up until then.

"Ma, we should go to  _Pinocchio's_. Seems only fitting." Henry winked as he suggested the same restaurant I used to take him to for special occasions during our year in New York. Besides, the name did actually fit the situation, considering we were literally fairytale characters.

With some difficulty (the streets of New York were  _always_  constantly busy, even on Christmas Eve) we all managed to cross the street, and everyone followed as I led them towards the restaurant.

"I've eaten there as well, once. The food is quite acceptable," Regina informed us, strolling confidently beside me, by now accustomed to the intricate maze of streets that was The City.

"Hey mom, where did you live when you were here?" Henry inquired.

"Well, I used to have an apartment in the Upper West Side, but..." She hesitated, glancing at me to know whether she should go on or keep the information to herself. I nodded encouragingly. "Yesterday I moved out of there, because I didn't want your mother to find me. Now I have a flat here… And Emma says it's the same place you two used to live in."

Henry's eyes lit up with excitement. "That's so cool! It can't be a coincidence, of course. It must be, I don't know, Fate or something…"

I chuckled lightly as I ruffled his hair. "I don't know about that, kid. Maybe it was just a case."

"We're here," Regina intervened, finally seeing the restaurant.

" _Finally_. I swear I'm starving."

I smirked at Regina's eye roll, and the five of us entered the place and asked for a table.

"Alright," mom said, once we were settled in a secluded corner of the dining room, away from potential eavesdroppers, "now you can tell us what the hell is going on."

And so Regina started her narration, revealing her voluntary sterility and Aphrodite's consequent thirst for revenge; with a few sporadic interventions by me, she talked about the jewelry box and Eros and Anteros, leaving out the most intimate details about the crystals and about our relationship in general. It was enough that I knew all about my mother's sex life before the curse broke; there was no need to return the favor.

My parents and Henry made comments and asked a few question throughout the whole story, and even after our food had arrived we kept talking.

"Wait, but that doesn't explain Gold's actions," dad pointed out through a mouthful of pumpkin ravioli after Regina had wrapped up her account. "I mean, we know he wanted the jewelry box and he ordered Snow to rummage through Emma's room to find it, but it doesn't add up… Why would he want it?"

A small gasp from my right had me turn towards Regina, whose eyes were lit up in realization: she had come to the right conclusion before us. "He didn't want our jewelry box!" she exclaimed. "Emma, remember what Eros and Anteros said earlier? There are  _two_  jewelry boxes, physically identical except for the writing on the bottom; one made to help to heal broken hearts, the other to restore waned loves.  _Belle is no longer in love with Gold_! He wanted the  _other_  chest, but he couldn't possibly know which one we had, hence why he tried to take it from us!"

"He wanted the other jewelry box! He was trying to find a way to get Belle to love him again!" I felt excitement bubble up inside me and I beamed at Regina. Then a thought hit me and my grin faltered. "But why pulling the stunt of stabbing you? That couldn't have possibly led him to the box…"

"Actually…" I stared in wonder as a deep blush rose from Regina's chest and up to her cheeks. "I, uh… I confronted him before leaving Storybrooke, about the fact that he wanted to hurt you…"

I sighed deeply, shaking my head in exasperation – although I did nothing to hide my amusement and the fondness her protective action had aroused in me. "Regina, what did you do?"

" _I didn't do anything_ ," she stated firmly. "I may have sent him flying backwards a couple feet, but it was really not a big deal. Anyway, he said he had been trying to do me a favor."

"What? Does he think we still hate each other and you still want me dead? After  _all_  we've been through?"

Regina shook her head. "No, not at all. He said that the fact that I was ready to sacrifice myself in order to save you triggered something in you – something that had you admit to your feelings for me, which resulted in us breaking the curse. Had he not controlled Snow so that she would stab you, it would have taken us much longer… So, I imagine he  _wanted_  us to break the curse, for some reason."

"Maybe he just needed you back. Maybe he needs your experience for something," mom suggested.

"Everything I know about magic I learned from him," Regina retorted. She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "This doesn't make any sense…"

"Hey," I said as I placed a hand on her thigh and gently squeezed, a lame attempt at comforting her. "Don't work yourself up about this. We'll get to the bottom of this, we always do."

She smiled warmly at me, and as I watched those incredibly familiar, deep brown eyes, now shining with unmistakable adoration, I found myself unable to look away. It was entrancing –  _Regina_  was entrancing. I had missed her, these past few months. Beautiful as the stars, and with a heart as big as it was maimed. I could read on her face the hints of how trying our morning had been; although we had cleaned up with magic, the soft creases at the edge of her eyes and the hooded lids revealed just how tired she was. I could bet I didn't look much better.

Henry cleared his throat a few moments later, startling us from our trance and erasing the goofy grin from my lips. We both muttered an embarrassed 'sorry', before focusing our attention on the food in front of us. We all went on making small talk until the waiter had cleared out the table and brought us the dessert menu; at that point, mom spoke up and addressed the only topic we were yet to discuss.

"Are we going to acknowledge  _at all_  the elephant in the room or should we just act like it's not there?"

I sharply sucked in a breath, dreading the direction the conversation was taking. "Yeah, uh- sure…"

"As you may have gathered from what I have told you before coming to New York, not to mention what we have been discussing until now, Emma and I are in love," Regina replied, all regal with her high chin and straight back, "and, whether you like it or not, we intend to cultivate a relationship."

Everyone went silent for a beat, and then, as usual, everyone started talking at once.

"Why would we not be okay with that?" Henry had asked.

"We've been waiting for you –  _both_  of you – to be happy for the longest time. If being in a relationship is going to grant you that happiness, I don't see why we would be against that," dad had said.

However, it was mom's excited – no,  _thrilled_  – squeal that we heard more clearly. She was grinning and clapping her hands together like an absolute maniac, and… were those  _tears_?!

All four of us (and a few customers and waiters, too) stared at her. "This is so perfect!" she said, her voice so high-pitched I was surprised the glasses didn't break. "I mean, it's not like I hadn't seen this coming, after all you were  _all_  each other could think or talk about before the Dark Curse broke, and then you became allies and then actual friends, and I kept wondering why the hell none of you ever made the first step." She was talking quickly and gesticulating wildly – so much so that Henry and David had recoiled on their seats to stay as far away from inadvertent punches as they could. Nonetheless, none of us could stop listening. "I mean, not that I didn't like Neal or Hook or Robin! After all, if  _they_  were the ones who would make you happy in the end, then of course I would be happy too. But I still saw  _something_  between you two, something that you never acknowledged and therefore I never addressed. Every time you somehow interacted with each other, whether it was to fight or to help, there was this…  _longing_ … that lingered between you two. Like a whole universe of 'what if's… And I'm so, so immensely happy that you have finally stopped holding everything back. You two are some of the most important people in my life, and I'm glad to be able to witness this: your happy ending unfolding in front of us. And, trust me, for you two to find happiness is all I have ever wished for."

She wiped at the few stubborn tears that had managed to fall, and then held our gazes, waiting for someone to say something.

Regina humored her. "Snow," she said. I could feel the swirling vortex of many different emotions she was feeling. Self-loathing, guilt and reluctant affection were the strongest ones, and I could tell how she didn't deem herself deserving of my mom's wholehearted acceptance of her as part of the family. "I-"

"Don't," I interrupted her. "Don't ruin this for you." It was enough for Regina to put her doubts aside – at least momentarily; in all honesty, I didn't think they would ever completely disappear – and simply smile gratefully at me, muttering then a, "Thank you," to mom that was heavy and sincere and it made her beam.

"Where did you leave Neal?" I asked then, and the conversation moved onto a lighter topic.

"With Zelena," dad replied. He laughed at Regina and I's disbelief. "I know! It's just that, you know, we're giving her another chance, too. She helped in the Underworld, she helped with Regina's memory curse… She's trying to change. Besides, you two trust her, and we trust you."

"Fair enough," I simply commented. The conversation went on for a couple more minutes, but soon we were asking for the check and Regina was insisting the lunch was on her.

"You came all the way here. I wouldn't be  _alive_  if Emma hadn't come. Offering you this lunch is the least I could do."

" _Fine_ ," mom sighed, finally, "but tonight we're all having dinner at the loft." Regina accepted the compromise and we all strolled around the city, enjoying Henry's thrilled comments about everything he recognized, listening to his anecdotes on even the most insignificant of things and thoroughly enjoying the fact that we were all there, we were all alive and we weren't going to lose anyone any time soon.

"Hey," I said after a while, a question that was yet to be answered on my mind, "how exactly did  _you_  find us?"

"Be  _very_  careful about what you're going to say," Regina hissed menacingly, when she saw dad open his mouth to reply. Clearly, she'd had enough of 'I will always find you's for today.

"I was just going to say that there was a silver swirl of magic right above Central Park. It couldn't have been anyone but you," dad said. Curious: I didn't even notice that.

Regina's brow furrowed. "This might be a problem. There were many, many people there, earlier; and if you're telling me you were able to see our magic from far away, then the witnesses must be countless."

"What do you think we should do? Let them ponder on the fact that everything they believed in was a lie, that magic  _does_  exist, and risk the government to come after us to study and experiment? Or find a spell that would make everyone forget about it?"

"I might have the perfect solution for your problem," a thickly accented voice intervened; the five of us turned around at once.

Out of nowhere, the Dragon had appeared. Regina took a protective step forward, essentially placing herself between him and us (which probably wasn't necessary, but it was really cute, so I didn't complain), and asked, suspicious, "And why would you help us, if I may ask?"

I placed a hand on her arm as an attempt to make her relent. "It's okay," I told her, "I asked for his help to wake you from the curse."

 _Sometimes, what is right in front of your eyes is the hardest thing to see_ , he had said. Man, was he right.

"I see you have managed to open your eyes," he commented with a smile, "and your heart."

I looked at Regina, a small frown distorting her features but doing nothing to ruin the beauty that lied within them. I was seeing her, now. Finally I was seeing the love I had denied myself for so many years.

"I have." The intense surge of emotion that I was feeling had probably touched Regina, who turned to face me and shot me a smile that was definitely just as goofy as my own. She slept her hand in mine and intertwined our fingers, and I knew I would never get tired of the butterflies.

"Uhm," mom spoke up, seeing how too involved Regina and I were with each other to pay any more attention to the Dragon, "so, what would this solution be?"

The Dragon chuckled at the embarrassment on our faces, but didn't point it out. Instead, he affirmed, "I was chosen to be Warden of this land. It is my duty to ensure its safety, even from magic. I have erased traces or manifestations of it for decades, and today's occurrences were nothing I can't fix. You can go back home and let me take care of this inconvenience."

I breathed a sigh of relief. One more problem solved, one less thing we needed to worry about. Maybe, there would be a time when the most urgent matter will be what to cook for dinner… For now, we'll have to settle for crazed pawnbrokers.

Henry silently moved to pick up the crystals and the jewelry box, which had fallen to the floor after the gods' disappearance and hadn't been picked up from anyone yet; and understandably so, considering Central Park was completely deserted.

Then we all admired the Dragon as he turned his back to us, held his arms up and enunciated a spell in a language I didn't recognize. As he did so, Regina and I created a barrier around the five of us to avoid being affected; then, a green beam of light erupted from the man in front of us, and magic disappeared from New York City.

* * *

Regina and I stayed back as we watched mom's pick-up merge in the traffic. Dad had insisted that Regina and I needed some time alone to talk – something that had been impossible to do since I had arrived to New York. So, Henry had gone with them, and even though I knew Regina would like to spend as much time as possible with him, we did need privacy and to stay away from distractions.

When the familiar car finally disappeared from sight, I felt Regina's cold hand seek comfort in mine, and we took off, headed to her apartment. We strolled through Central Park for a bit, not saying anything and enjoying each other's company in a whole different way than before. Our conjoined emotions lacked the fear of losing the other, there was nothing stopping us from being together – from being the family we had never had and the couple we had always hoped to be. We could achieve the normality we had struggled to earn for so long. We were going to be okay.

As I settled onto the couch, pulling Regina down with me, I hugged her tight, half-sitting and half-laying down, both uncomfortable but, undoubtedly, the happiest we had ever been.

"I love you," she told me. I would never tire of hearing those three words, and I immediately swore to myself that I would never miss a chance to say them. She deserved it. She deserved everything that I could give her.

"I love you," I repeated then, and it was impossible to bear the combined emotion our mismatched hearts were conveying for much longer.

Regina seemed to know exactly what was going through my mind, because she leaned away from the hug just enough to give me a quick peck on the lips and look me in the eye, and said, "Do you think we should exchange them back?"

I hesitated for a brief second. There was still something I wanted to try, and now, with the apartment all to ourselves and no imminent threats looming over us, nothing could stop me from getting what I wanted.

I let my hands slip underneath the soft fabric of her sweater, grazing the skin of her lower back, as I said, "I actually had something else in mind…" and she smiled before kissing me passionately, with such fervor that my head started spinning.

Needless to say, making love to the person whose heart is beating in your own chest brings a relationship to a whole new level.

As I sat up, finding a more comfortable position, and Regina straddled me, I could feel both of our anticipations build up, our heartbeat growing more frantic as each layer of clothing was slowly (so, so  _slowly_ ) removed. To crown it all, powerful and steady was the utter adoration that made me crave the woman in my arms more and more, and as we fought for dominance and giggled at the irony of it (after all, wasn't it what we had been doing at the very beginning of our story? Pushing and pulling, getting a rise out of each other because there was so much tension that we didn't know how to handle it), it didn't falter for a second.

Eventually, I gave in to Regina's wishes and let her gain the upper hand, as she kissed every inch of my naked body, lingering on my chest, right where  _our_  heartbeat was stronger, to pay even more attention to that particular spot.

She let her hands wander and caress my breasts, my stomach, my thighs – a restless yet slow, feathery motion that made me shiver and squirm in need for  _more_  – while her mouth left a trail of possessive, passionate kisses from my neck to the decades-old scar right above my breast and again to my hip, where she bit down hard just for the hell of it. It was going to leave a mark, that was for sure, and I knew Regina loved it as much as I did.  _Hers._

When she moved on to my inner thigh, taking her time and leaving love-bites here and there, making me wetter and wetter as she continued to neglect the place where I needed her mouth the most, I felt her need to please me grow in her side of my heart, the will to make me even happier, and that alone almost had me come undone. But Regina didn't cave in, didn't listen to my pleads, and continued teasing and chuckling lowly when I pulled hard at her hair, kissing attentively every inch of skin that surrounded my sex and making me drip with arousal.

"Regina, I swear to god, if you don't fuck me  _right now_ -" I didn't get a chance to finish the sentence, because a loud moan escaped my throat as her tongue finally swiped through my wetness, and I would have laughed at the utter joy that spiraled in me from both of us, hadn't I been so distracted by her head between my legs.

She groaned at my taste, the vibrations of her voice only exciting me even more, and after what felt like an eternity, she circled her tongue on my clit and I was already embarrassingly _close_.

"Fuck, Regina," I choked out as she mercilessly licked and sucked on my bundle of nerves, my breath already shaky and my hands gripping tightly at her hair, pushing her even harder against me. She then unceremoniously thrusted two fingers inside of me, and I screamed her name over and over as I came, our conjoined emotions making it the most intense, most guttural orgasm of my life.

She emerged from her position, lips glistening with my arousal, hair disheveled, eyes darker than ever before – and I had never seen anyone as beautiful. I kissed her deeply, aggressively, both of us whispering, "I love you," every time we managed.

In a rush of stamina, I flipped our positions, so that now Regina was lying down and I was straddling her. I took a moment to take that image in – Regina naked, flushed, with smeared make-up and her reddened lips parted, and I only fleetingly asked myself how I could possibly deserve someone that perfect. I decided then and there that I needed to look at her in the eye as I pleased her; I slipped a hand in between her legs and moved on top of her, so that my body was flush against hers and I was resting my weight on my left arm.

"You're so beautiful," she whispered as she ran a hand through my hair. I kissed her, suffocating the moan she let out as I moved a digit along her slick folds and up to her clit, applying only the tiniest bit of pressure to pay her back for the tease. I circled my fingers around the nub, never gratifying her, and I smirked when she bit my lip in frustration.

I broke the kiss to let our gazes interlock. None of us looked away as I slid my middle finger inside of her, quickly adding the ring finger as well, eliciting a chocked gasp from her. Her eyes rolled back for a second as I began moving in and out, but she was quick to re-establish eye contact, needing it just as much as I did.

She let out a menacing, "Emma…" when I didn't start curling my fingers to hit her spot, because even during sex she preferred threatening instead of begging. But I didn't indulge her, moving slowly and pressing my thumb against her clit only for a second, before removing it. And she dug her nails in my back every time I did so, but she still didn't ask, she still didn't implore, and eventually I just caved in. I didn't address the relief that washed over me but come entirely from Regina.

I finally started speeding up the movements, curling my fingers upwards to graze the spongy tissue of her sweet spot with every violent thrust, and it was a matter of seconds before she climaxed, her walls clutching around my digits and wetness engulfing her entrance. She hadn't screamed – she never did; but she had choked out my name so many times that even the walls had learned it by heart. I didn't even give her a chance to recover, before my tongue was on her, dragging out the orgasm until another one was building up, and at least that got her to swear – and hearing curse words leaving Regina Mills' mouth while I was eating her out was probably the most wonderful thing in this godsforsaken world.

My chest was hurting from how intense our emotions had gotten, but we would have gladly kept going, if it hadn't been for the fact that we had been through a whole lot, that day, and we really needed to take things slowly, one step at a time. We were tired, our adrenaline was starting to die out and we still had a seven hours-long car drive ahead of us.

"We should probably get going," I mumbled then, my head resting on her chest as I took in the sound of our two hearts beating as one. Regina was combing her fingers through my hair, and I could have fallen asleep right then and there.

"Why?"

I smiled. "We are having dinner with my parents." I raised my head just enough to see her grimace, but I could tell she was secretly glad.

"Tell Snow to call Zelena, too. She gets all cranky when we have family dinners and don't include her."

"Will do, Your Majesty," I retorted, and by her sharp intake of breath and her thighs suddenly clenching, I deduced she  _really_  liked the title.  _Good to know_. I chuckled at that and ran a hand along her side, just enjoying the silky-smooth skin and somehow unable to stop drinking her in – with my eyes, my hands, my heart. There were so many sides to Regina, so many flakes of her personality, that I would never tire of worshipping every single one of them in every way that I could.

"You think I'm funny, Miss Swan?" My head had found its place back on her chest, but I knew she was smiling even though I couldn't see her.

I lifted my body just a hair's breadth away from her, shifting up until our eyes were levelled. I nuzzled my nose against hers, and looked at her intensely as I said, "I think you're the most wonderful person I've ever had the good fortune of meeting, Madame Mayor." Regina's eyes glazed over at that, and a wave of adoration rushed through me as she caressed my cheek; and years of self-loathing, guilt and insecurities bubbled up inside of her, but were completely overpowered by my love. "I love you. I'm getting repetitive, but I'll never stop saying it," I joked, and with that I sat up, never moving off of Regina's body. "Enough with the sentimentality. God forbid we start sounding like my parents."

Regina laughed at that, throatily and lightheartedly, and it was the most beautiful sound. She swatted my ass to make me climb off of her, and as I walked away to look for my neglected clothes, I heard her mutter to herself, "The things I'd do to you…" in a voice so husky that it caused another gush of arousal to course through me.

Ignoring the remark was probably the best thing to do. We were never going to leave that flat, otherwise.

Way-too-many-clothes back on, I walked up to Regina, gave her a chaste peck on the lips and asked, "Ready?"

She nodded lightly. "I'm going to miss you. I know this is necessary, but I was growing used to having your heart inside of me."

"I know. But I'm not going anywhere, alright?" She kissed me in reply. When we broke apart, we dug our hands inside of each other's chest again.


	26. Regina - Saved

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaand here we are. This is the last chapter, the end of this adventure. Thank you all for having tagged along in this wonderful journey, I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.  
> I will be participating in Swan Queen Supernova 2018, and I honestly cannot wait. This fandom has changed my life, and I couldn't be more grateful.  
> I hope I will see you all soon. Until then... enjoy!

We spent the whole drive back to Storybrooke talking about what had occurred and what we should expect once we would be back home.

After having matched our hearts with their respective halves (although the phrasing would be debatable; my heart belonged to Emma and always would), we had teleported her bug back to Storybrooke, since we had come to New York in separate cars but wanted to spend the trip back home together. It had required a lot of stamina, to transfer such a large object over three-hundred miles away, and now Emma was gulping down energy drink after energy drink as I drove and occasionally sipped on iced coffee to stay awake, although my limbs felt heavy and tender.

Discussing the most recent events helped to keep me conscious.

Well, Emma's barrage of questions did. She was high on energy drinks, and it was worse than the sugar rushes Henry used to get when he was younger. Her fidgeting, the words leaving her mouth in rapid sequence, the loudness of her voice were better than a gallon of caffeine: I couldn't have been able to fall asleep even if I had tried.

Granted, the desire to smother the woman I loved was growing more and more powerful as the minutes ticked by, but at least I was awake.

Nevertheless, I tried my best to reply to everything she asked.

"Why did we have powers? I mean, I know we have True Love and that's 'the most powerful magic of all'," she said the last sentence in a mock-dramatic voice, fingers curling to mimic air-quotes, and I couldn't tell if she was making fun of someone or if she was just completely out of it, "and that's why we managed to make magic; and  _Eric_  and  _Anthony_  and their bitch mother were gods, so I guess that makes them super powerful no matter where they are. But I mean, if the five of us used magic and the Dragon can do that to, why the hell call it 'The Land Without Magic'? It should be renamed to 'The Land With Some Magic, But Not Really'. Or maybe magic is there, but people can't use it because they don't believe in it."

I sighed, although I did nothing to hide my amusement. As patiently as I could, as if dealing with an overgrown child, I said, "Emma, there is no magic in this world. Maybe True Love was powerful enough to draw energy all the way from Storybrooke, or even from another Land; maybe Aphrodite changed the order of things temporarily, purposely bringing magic to this realm in order to have a somewhat-fair fight against us; maybe you and I and the Dragon are nothing but exceptions, and magic still doesn't exist in this world, aside from Storybrooke. I'm afraid I don't have an answer."

"What should we do with Gold?" she asked then. Well, that was a good question. "He constantly shifts from being a total ass to kinda helping us. We've given him so many chances at redemption that I feel like he's just making fun of us. I mean, I get it – he's gone through a lot. He lost his wife, his son, his girlfriend; then he found his girlfriend, married her, found his son, lost him again, then lost Belle again and, automatically, his second son. But, like, he's kind of had it coming? He never learns. Always goes back to that stupid dagger. I don't know how he does it, I hated being the Dark One. It corrupts you. It…  _rots_  you. Maybe Gold has gone past the point of no return."

"He clung to power when he didn't have love. Once he finally found love, he wasn't able to let his power go. He is far past the point of no return, and he has been since long before I cast the Dark Curse. Miss French seems to have come to the same conclusion, at last."

There was pity in my voice. Despite how much this world's fairytales tended to suggest it, there were no heroes and villains – real life was not polarized, not a binary division of 'good' versus 'evil'. It was shades of grey, it was anti-heroes, it was redemption and betrayal and corruption and forgiveness. Rumple was no different; he simply made the wrong choice over and over again, albeit driven by despair as much as  _addiction_.

"We shall keep offering him help," I dictated then. Emma gazed at me, surprise written all over her features. "Every time he will refuse it, every time he will fall back into the darkness, we shall grant him another chance… until he makes the right choice and abide by it for good."

I quickly glanced to my right, eyes leaving the road shortly, only to see Emma's dazzling smile, a hint of pride behind her eyes. I smiled back, conveying as much warmth as I could, before turning my attention back to the road. "I missed you," she said, and it hurt to hear the sadness in her voice.

I knew she was referring to the three months I had been gone. I took a deep breath. "I think that, on some level, I missed you too," I confessed. "There was an emptiness inside of me that was not caused by the lack of memories; it was the knowledge, which I had before leaving, that I would never know what would have happened if I hadn't been so scared of loving you. I wasn't aware of its cause, when I was I New York, but I could still feel that I was missing something." Trying my best to get my point across, I continued, "Maybe it's not that I couldn't sleep because I was away from Storybrooke… maybe it was because I was away from you."

"Did you…" Emma cleared her throat in uneasiness. "Did you feel it before you cast the curse on yourself, too?"

I nodded. As if she even needed to ask. "Of course I did. I've always felt  _something_  – a pull, an attraction of some sort that was powerful and intimidating – from the very first moment I laid my eyes on you,  _that_ night – the night you broke into my city and into my life. Even as I mistook it for simple attraction, at the beginning, I put all my energy in trying to suppress it, channeled it so that it would translate to that animosity that was the only way to blow off some steam. Because you were a threat to my curse, because you were Snow White's daughter, because you were Henry's mother… there were many reasons, each one feebler than the other.

"Then, Aphrodite showed up in Storybrooke, and she would have killed the people I loved just to hurt me. That is when my consciousness connected the dots and understood what my subconscious had known all along: I was afraid for Henry's life just as much as yours. I realized that I loved you. And I couldn't bear the idea of either of you in danger, let alone losing you.

"So, I did the only thing that made sense: I forgot about you. It was the only way to keep you both safe – if I didn't remember you, your death wouldn't have hurt me, and Aphrodite wouldn't have had a reason to harm you. Besides, thanks to the curse, I would be far away from you, and when Aphrodite finally decided to get her revenge against me, you wouldn't be caught in the crossfire. Of course, I didn't consider how stubborn you can be.

"You came back into my life, wormed your way back into my heart. A part of me recognized you even while I was cursed, recognized the memory of my love for you. I didn't fall in love with you during the past two weeks, because I have been in love with you for four years." I said that last part lightly, amusement in my voice that was trying to dissipate some of the dramatic tension, the schmaltziness that could easily compete with Snow and David's traditional behavior. I scrunched my face up in disgust at the comparison.

Emma sighed. She was about to cut in with some joke: even as I was driving, I recognized the telltale signs of amusement hiding behind her neutral expression. I was glad, because regardless of our feelings for each other, the amount of rom-com material the past handful of hours had generated had been draining. "I can't believe I spent all that time fantasizing about calling you 'Madame Mayor' in bed, when I could have so easily made it reality.  _If only I knew_ …" Another melodramatic sigh.

I smirked. "Well, that can be arranged, Sheriff."

The way Emma's pupils spread out at my words and her lips parted slightly in a silent gasp was a reaction I would never tire of receiving. She shook her head, running a hand over her eyes. "You'll be the death of me, woman," she let out. Then, as if a sudden stray thought hit her, she added, "So, what are we?"

I huffed out a laugh. "Apparently fourteen-year-olds."

"Oh, shut up!" she giggled. "I'm serious."

"I know, dear." I took a moment to think, not really sure how to respond to her question. "We didn't exactly approach our relationship in the most conventional of ways."

"So there  _is_  a relationship?"

"If True Love's Kiss, the 'I love you's and the amount of times we had sex are anything to go by, then yes, I'm afraid so," I joked. Normal human reactions, such as the instinct of self-preservation, would have suggested we would be afraid of the prospect of another relationship: after all, it hadn't exactly gone well for either of us, before. Yet, I was surrounded by a calm serenity, the knowledge that Emma and I together could overcome anything. Love was weakness, but it was the most powerful magic of all, too.

"I'd like to take you out on a date," she said then. "I know it's kind of pointless, but I've wanted to do it for such a long time. I've always known that nothing between us could ever be  _normal_ , but there's something reassuring about the idea of something ordinary like having a romantic dinner, don't you think?"

I smiled fondly. "I'd love that."

"So…" she trailed off again, before asking, "What kind of relationship are we in? Like, are we dating? Are we together? Are you my  _girlfriend_?"

A loud laugh escaped my throat at the silly tone she used for that last word. "Whichever one you want, dear. I don't usually pay much mind to labels."

"Riiight," she sassed, "because being called 'The Evil Queen' never bothered you, did it?"

And it was wonderful, really. Emma's hand casually stroking mine whenever she had the chance, making lighthearted jokes about a heavy past that seemed so far away, now, while we drove back to Storybrooke. Back to dinner with Zelena and the Charmings, back home with Henry.

_Home_.

I could get used to it.

* * *

Well, dinner was a disaster.

Snow had tried to make a vegetable bake, because apparently she thought being healthy was the best way to celebrate finally being all back together;  _tried_  being the key word, because as soon as she closed the oven, a miniature explosion sent the dish flying to the other side of the room, scattering vegetables everywhere and shattering against the wall. I couldn't tell if it had been Emma or Zelena who had done it, because they were sporting the same mischievous look, but then again, it could have easily been both. You'd think someone as obsessed with the color green as my sister would love vegetables; and yet, there was nothing she despised more.

There wasn't much time to investigate the cause of the explosion, anyway, because now thick, black smoke was enveloping the apartment and the fire alarm was going off, and baby Neal and baby Robin were bawling at the loud noise.

Needless to say, we went to eat at Granny's.

A couple of curious looks were sent our way, when we entered the diner and the few customers took in how disheveled we all looked (and how foul we smelled). Nonetheless, Granny pushed a couple of tables together so that we could all fit, and when I smiled and said, "Thank you, Eugenia," the older woman knew it was an apology for my behavior while I was cursed. By her lack of surprise at me using her first name, I assumed the Charmings had already informed the whole town about my curse being broken, before joining us in New York.

"Eugenia?" Emma whispered to me once Granny was out of earshot. She had forgotten about the enhanced senses that being a werewolf provided, so she blushed and muttered, "Never mind," when the woman in question turned towards her.

"I can't believe you didn't know her name," I muttered after Granny had retired to the kitchen and we had all sat down. "You spend more time here than at the Sheriff Station. You alone could keep this business going."

Emma pinched my side teasingly. "Don't make fun of me, Madame Mayor."

"I'm just saying what's true," I justified.

Then, Miss Lucas showed up, waitress uniform back on – which was surprising: shouldn't she be at the hospital with…

"Oh, shit," Emma let out. She had paled visibly, and as I followed her line of sight, I understood why: Dorothy Gale was right behind Miss Lucas, sporting the same clothes as her girlfriend despite having just recovered.

I hurried a glance at Zelena, who was chatting amiably with Henry and hadn't seen her nemesis yet. I didn't get a chance to do anything that would somehow protect the girl from my sister's wrath, because she was suddenly by our side and tentatively asking, "What can I get you?"

Zelena's head snapped in her direction at the familiar voice – or maybe it was just the Kansas accent – and when Dorothy finally saw just who she was about to serve, she jumped backwards with a shocked gasp.

Miss Lucas was by her side in a second, a hand soothingly running up and down her arm, although wariness lingered on her features as she (and everyone else) eyed Zelena's reaction.

" _You_!"

I cut in before my sister could say anything more. "Zelena, please keep in mind that redemption requires you  _not_  to kill, maim or endanger other people."

"And words can be hurtful, too," Emma concurred passionately.

Henry, bless him, even added, "And it's Christmas."

"But I  _hate_ her…" Zelena tried to argue.

I nodded understandingly. "I know, dear,  _trust me_. But think of your baby: you don't want her hating you for the bad things you've done, do you?"

Henry, on my left, slipped his hand in mine. It wasn't hard to understand that he felt guilty, even after all this time, about treating me the way he did once upon a time.  _Shades of grey_ , my mind echoed again.

"You have a baby?" Dorothy Gale jumped in. Only now did she seem to notice the six-months-old bundled up in a blanket between Zelena and baby Neal. "Wow, I- I'm glad it… isn't… green?"

Well, she needed practice, but that comment could vaguely resemble a compliment. I shot Zelena an eloquent look and, after having rolled her eyes, she blurted out, "Thank you. I hope a house won't fall on you."

We were getting there.

" _Okay_ ," David exclaimed loudly, dispersing the utter awkwardness that encounter had brought about. "I'll have a grilled cheese sandwich and onion rings on the side, please."

We all took turns to order, Ruby carefully checking that Dorothy wrote everything down from over her shoulder, and soon enough we were eating and chatting away.

Dinner went by in a flash.

Henry asked if he could come home with me, and I was happy to say yes.

Zelena had left our table, at some point, to join Belle on the other side of the diner – "Belle and Ruby had a thing a while ago," Emma had said, "I guess they see in Dorothy a common enemy." – and now they were leaving together, and if my sister was making a friend, I couldn't be happier.

Snow and David took off, mentally preparing themselves for the disaster their apartment would surely be in.

Emma pressed a lingering kiss on my lips – and I would never tire of the way her lips made my head spin and my knees weaken and my heart flutter – and then jogged to her bug, where Henry was waiting for her. I needed to speak to Gold, so Emma was going to drive Henry to Mifflin Street before going back to the loft.

We had agreed on not spending the night together. We needed to take things slow, having experienced an unhealthy amount of things during the past two weeks. It was the right thing to do, although the small jolt of pain at seeing her walk away suggested otherwise.

After the bug had disappeared from sight, I headed for the pawnshop. Our last encounter hadn't been the most friendly, but hopefully this time it would go differently.

The bell above the door trilled as I made my way inside. Gold had just walked in from the back, and there was something dull, something missing as he greeted me with his usual, "Your Majesty."

"It wasn't the jewelry box you were looking for," I said, not returning his formality. I pulled the box out of my purse and showed him the engravings on the bottom, not handing it to him because this was  _Emma and I_ , it was precious.

" _Dolorem Animi Extinguo_ ," he read. He was resigned, deflated. "I should have figured."

I scoffed out a laugh. "No, you should have  _stopped_." I placed the box back in my purse and stepped closer to him. "You don't  _force_  love, Rumple. You earn it. Stop harassing your ex-wife. Perhaps you've let Miss French down too many times, now, but it's not too late to be a part of your son's life. I have no doubt she will let you, should you ask nicely."

"It's not that easy."

I nodded in agreement. "It never is, at first. But it becomes less and less difficult as time goes by." At his lack of response, I asked, "Why did you want my curse to break?"

"To use the power of the jewelry box, I needed you and Miss Swan to collect all the crystals first. That wouldn't have happened unless you had your memories back." He lowered his gaze, then. Pretending to study the old clock in front of him, he stated, "You should go back to your family," and I was dismissed.

I turned back before closing the door. "You're family too."

* * *

I tossed and turned in my bed until the covers had slipped out of underneath the mattress and rose over my feet. When I had had enough, I reached for my phone on the nightstand, quickly typed in, ' _Come here or I'll turn your car pink_ ,' and half a second later white smoke announced Emma's arrival.

"Took you long enough," she complained, and I barely had the chance to take in her half-naked figure (tank top and underwear, just like that time at Granny's an eternity ago) before she slid into bed next to me, grinned brightly and said, "Merry Christmas, Honeybuns."

I waved a hand. "Your bug is now pink. I hope you're happy."

Her jaw dropped, much to my delight. "You  _didn't_."

"I think it will be a nice surprise for your parents to wake up to, tomorrow."

"Well,  _Sweetums_ , I hope you know I can still return your Christmas present-"

Another wave. "Now it's covered in purple hearts! How precious."

"Stop it!" she laughed, and it was the most wonderful sound in the world.

"What's the magic word?" I teased, an eyebrow shooting up.

Emma didn't reply immediately. She moved so that she was now on top of me, straddling my hips and holding my hands above my head. She kissed her way from my collarbone up to my ear, and after having bitten my lobe and elicited a stifled moan from me, she murmured, "Buttercup."

I cackled at that, and Emma kissed me despite the fact that we were both smiling.

"Merry Christmas, Emma," I said, and everything was perfect.

"I love you."

She rested her head on my chest and hugged my waist. It was the beginning of something special – long overdue, but all kinds of wonderful. Nothing would keep me away from my happy ending, not anymore. Not with Emma's love that could move mountains and break walls, not with my son a few rooms away, a crazy sister, a broken imp and charming in-laws.

It was my future, I was holding in my arms.

We were going to live happily ever after.


End file.
